


A Den of Wolves and Lions

by wxntxr_chxld



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Jaime Lannister, F/M, Joffrey Baratheon is His Own Warning, Minor Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Minor Joffrey Baratheon/Sansa Stark, Sansa-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2019-11-18 07:56:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 34,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18116564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wxntxr_chxld/pseuds/wxntxr_chxld
Summary: "How many times must I tell you that I will not hurt you, Sansa, I am not my nephew," Jaime sighed, looking at the shivering girl in front of him. She looked up then, suddenly as fierce as her mother."Your son, you mean," She retorted, staring into his eyes, her blue eyes shining brightly with a mixture of fear and indifference. Jaime shook his head."Do not talk of things you do not understand, girl," He snapped, turning away from her. He heard her move to redress herself."I understand more than you know, my lord," She replied. He turned to face her once more, and the only thing he saw was the pendant he had gifted her, lying on their bed.





	1. SANSA

**Author's Note:**

> Brand new fic, kids. Surprise. Hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brand new fic guys  
> If you haven’t already, check out my other fic ‘The Final Crown of Winter Roses’ :)  
> Enjoy!

**KINGS LANDING**

* * *

 

Sansa looked upon the court drearily. Jaime Lannister had just returned from her brothers camp. Sansa would give anything to speak to her brother again, and she had spent the night tossing and turning, thinking about why her mother would release the Kingslayer when Robb could have killed him, she supposed that they could have killed Sansa in retaliation, but anything, even death, was better than being Joffrey's plaything. She looked upon the people of the court, the people who sneered at her in the halls, the people who once would have showered her with praise and compliments as they were now doing the Margaery Tyrell, not that Sansa minded the shift of attention, she would much rather Margaery be a plaything than herself, even if the Tyrell girl was her friend. Not a true friend though, a friend because the Tyrell's wanted a key to the North. Just like the Lannisters. Even if they did want her to marry Ser Loras.

"Come forward, Ser Jaime," Joffrey called from atop the Iron Throne, Sansa often wondered whether he got tired of sitting on the throne, more than once, Sansa had seen him step down from it with a trickled of blood. This only made Sansa wonder why everyone wanted this throne so badly, this torturous weapon of power. But, she supposed that's what everyone wanted, power. Not her, she thought, she just wanted her family and her home. Sansa watched the kingsguard kneel down to his king, his son if the rumours were to be believed.

"My king," Jaime drawled, watching the boy for a gesture that could allow him to stand. Sansa watched on, as always. She had gotten good at watching people. Cersei and Joffrey had called her a stupid little girl but she watched, and she learnt things. Not great things, but character things. She knew that Cersei smiled a certain way when she lied, and she knew that Joffrey didn't lie, because he was a king.

"Get up, uncle," Joffrey replied in a bored tone as if he had somewhere better to be. He did not, of course, unless beating Sansa was counted as better than holding court. The man stood, he looked quite bored, maybe more so than his nephew, or son if the rumours were to believed. If Stannis was to be believed.

"How may I serve you, your grace?" Jaime asked, standing from his position. The sun then caught on the gold of his prosthetic hand and Sansa flinched. The tale of how the Lannister heir lost his hand had spread around the keep. Sansa's handmaiden, Shae, told her all the gossip from the servants around the keep. She was her friend, if not a spy for Cersei, which Sansa doubted since she spoke so ill of the Queen Dowager.

"You have served me faithfully, and my father before me, but now your guard has come to an end. You are dismissed from the Kingsguard," Joffrey grinned, Jaime stared at the boy king and blinked for few moments. There was silence in the court. Sansa felt as though she could hear her own heartbeat, and hear the fury seeping off of the former Kingsguard if that was possible. 

"Excuse me, your grace?" Jaime seethed. Then Lord Tywin took control, standing from his seat next to Joffrey's, he faced his eldest son.

"You cannot protect the king with one hand, Lord Jaime. It is time to take your place as the heir to Casterly Rock. Time to get married," Tywin said coldly. It was as if the air in the throne room dropped to the same temperature you would find in a northern wasteland. Sansa shivered.

"I will not, you cannot make me leave the Kingsguard, it is a sworn brotherhood, for life!" Jaime yelled, directing his fury at his lord father. Sansa suddenly remembered the way they dismissed Ser Barristan, one of the only kind ones there. Just as undignified. Joffery laughed then, and Sansa felt shivers run down her spine, for his laughter could never mean good things.

"It is an order of the king. In fact, we have already chosen a bride for you. Lady Sansa, come forward," Joffrey smiled sadistically, beckoning her forward. Sansa froze, she felt a nudge behind her. Shae was standing there, staring at her expectantly. Sansa took slow steps out towards the middle of the court, where her apparent soon-to-be husband was standing. She curtsied stiffly. Many thoughts were running through her mind about how this would play out, but this was not one of them. She looked up, and her eyes met the ones of the queen dowager, who was glaring at her with a type of anger that Sansa had not yet been subjected too.

"Lady Sansa will be your wife, and you will do your duty," Lord Tywin told Jaime, the man she was now next too. She did not yet rise.

"Lady Sansa, give your betrothed a kiss. He hasn't had one in so long, after all," Joffrey commanded. Sansa looked at him, before looking down to the ground and standing once more. She took a deep, shaky breath and looked up at the man she was to marry. He made no effort to bend down. She felt the eyes of the court and the King watching her intently. She stood on her toes and placed her lips on his cheek before hurridly swivelling down and away from him. Joffrey's laugh rang throughout the hall.

"If that is your idea of a kiss, then I am glad I did not marry you after all," Joffrey sneered, now standing from the Iron Throne. Sansa flinched, she looked pleadingly at Jaime, who simply ignored her.

"My apologies, my king, I'm sorry I have disappointed you once more," Sansa spoke for the first time since she had arrived in court this day. Joffrey laughed once more, as he stepped forward. Her cheeks were burning red, her face was as hot as the sands of Dorne. 

"Ser Jaime, kiss your betrothed, show her how to do so," Joffrey ordered, shifting the direction of his speech to his uncle now instead. Sansa felt the heat in her cheeks intensify.

"Actions between betrothed should be kept between them, your grace," Jaime sneered, before turning on his heel and walking out of the throne room, leaving Sansa standing alone in amongst the ladies and lords of the court. The doors of the Throne Room swung shut and the bang echoed through the hall. Sansa felt herself flinch, something she did often as of late. She looked back toward the king.

"Well, go after him!" Joffrey stated, looking at her expectantly. Sansa curtsied once more and walked quickly out of the hall. She breathed deep and fast, she felt tears running down her cheeks.

"I'm not that bad, am I?" Jaime asked, coming out of apparently nowhere. Sansa jumped and quickly wiped her eyes, before curtsying lowly, he was now back to being the heir to Casterly Rock, after all.

"Of course not, my lord," She whispered. A million thoughts and arguments ran through her brain, but this was not the time to say such things. Jaime scoffed.

"Then why are you out here sobbing?" He asked tiredly. Sansa shook her head quickly. 

"I am not, my lord," Sansa replied quietly, bracing herself to be slapped for lying. She shut her eyes tightly. She heard him sigh.

"Come with me," Jaime sighed once more, before taking hold of her arm tightly and taking her stumbling forward. Sansa cried out in pain, Jaime immediately let go. She whimpered and stepped away from him, rubbing her arm where a bruise was there, leftover from days before when Joffrey had commanded a kingsguard to grab her.

"I'm sorry, Lady Sansa," Jaime began, he rubbed his eyes with both hands, "Just, come with me please," 

Sansa nodded and followed the man in the direction that he was walking, still clad in his Kingsguard armour. They walked until Jaime suddenly turned and went through a door. Sansa took a single deep breath and followed him. She had never been in this certain area, but she recognised it as the White Sword tower. Jaime showed her to a door after they climbed up the stairs and gestured for her to enter and she did so, not without attempting to regulate her breathing as Shae had shown her.

"Sit," He said simply, pointing to a chair. Sansa bowed her head and did so, watching as he sat across from her.

"It is clear, neither of us wants this," Jaime began. Sansa shook her head.

"I am happy to be betrothed to you, I am lucky to have this opportunity. A traitors daughter such as myself do not deserve it," Sansa recited, taking another deep breath, avoiding his bright green eyes that reminded her so much of that of his twin sister and nephew.

"I am not Joffrey, you don't have to lie to me. You can speak freely here, I will not harm you," Jaime sighed, looking at her quite sadly. She snapped her head up, she knew it was a risk but he could not be worse than the boy he was rumoured to have sired.

"I do not need your pity, my lord," Sansa snapped, quickly looking back down after saying so. There was silence in the room, Sansa looked up. Jaime looked at her for the first time with something that Sansa thought may have been respect. She took a deep breath. 

"I do not pity you, Lady Sansa, I simply did not see the connection between you and your mother until now," Jaime replied, with a ghost of a smile on his face, looking mournfully at his golden hand.

"Do not talk to me of my mother, she is a traitor," Sansa forced out, avoiding Jaime's gaze. He scoffed.

"She is a good woman, actually, you should know that, lady Sansa. She is the reason that I am here, actually," Jaime replied harshly. Sansa flinched, she was taken aback. Jaime Lannister was defending Catelyn Stark, it seemed strange to her.

"She is, I do know that," Sansa replied quietly. Jaime sighed in satisfaction.

"What do you want from me, my lord?" Sansa sighed, looking into his green eyes. His horribly familiar green eyes. He looked at her strangely.

"I want an understanding. You are still a child, I have no wish to marry you. My father will make us, however, so we have no choice. I want you to know that I will not hurt you, my lady, I wish for you to trust me," Jaime told her. Sansa nodded. This was something that she could accept. Not that she believed him quite yet, but if her mother trusted him enough to free him, then maybe he could be trusted not to harm her.

"Why did my mother free you?" She asked instead, looking at him intently. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. 

"To bring you and your sister back to her, she loves you more than you know," Jaime replied, looking away now, rubbing where Sansa presumed the stump of his arm was.

"Why didn't you? Take me back that is?" Sansa asked desperately, this was new information to her. The man scoffed and looked towards her then.

"Do you think Joffrey would let me take away his plaything?" Jaime replied darkly, shooting a disbelieving look at her, now it was Sansa's turn to be uncomfortable, as she tried to rearrange herself to look dignified. She stood.

"If that is all, my lord?" She asked, gritting her teeth. Jaime scoffed and nodded, and before he could say anything or change his mind as Joffrey had so many times before, Sansa rushed out of the room. She rushed back to her small chambers by the servants quarters. Shae was there, waiting for her. 

"Are you okay, Sansa? I was worried that I could not find you," Shae said through her accent. Sansa nodded slowly, she walked to her chair by the mirror.

"Please, brush my hair," Sansa instructed. And for the time that she imagined that she was in Winterfell, with her mother brushing her hair, and there wasn't the looming threat of an unwanted marriage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos and comments are appreciated x


	2. JAIME

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the positive feedback on my first chapter, so Merry Christmas. Here's a second :)
> 
> P.S. if you haven't already, you should totally check out my first fanfic, 'The Final Crown of Winter Roses'

**KINGS LANDING**

* * *

 

Jaime walked angrily out of the room in which he had just spoken to the child he was supposed to marry. He needed to speak to his father. In private this time perhaps. Jaime stalked towards the tower in which his father now resided, ever since his return to the capital, Jaime had only been back for a short while too, and this was not how he intended to spend his first days back. No, that was meant to be spent making love to Cersei, protecting his little shit of a nephew, and fucking Cersei a little more. Marrying the child he had sworn to return to her mother, was not apart of that plan. Jaime looked at the guards lining the walls, staring at him quite strangely, he shot a glare around them, he would not lose the respect that he had gained over the years, the only respect he had had was from the other guards, Tyrion, and of course, Cersei. But with this, and his dismissal, that was bound to change. Jaime leapt up several stairs at a time, in order to get to his destination faster. When he finally arrived at the door, he didn't bother knocking or listening to Meryn Trant, the guard outsides protest for that matter. The first thing he saw was his father, brother, and Cersei sitting at the table, looking as though they were having an argument. 

"Finally, Jaime, you have decided to join us," Tywin said, just as cold as always. His siblings looked at him strangely. Jaime sent a glare in his father's direction. 

"I'm sorry, but my betrothed had orders from the king to seek me out," Jaime spat, rivalling his fathers cold and dismissing tone. Tyrion snorted, probably because Jaime didn't give a single shit about what the king had to say, and he knew that.

"As I've been trying to tell them, Jaime. She should not be your betrothed. She's a child, for god's sake!" Tyrion drawled, coming to his brother's defence, Jaime relaxed slightly, knowing his brother was on his side, not that their father listened to him. He sent a hopeful glance to Cersei, who turned her head away.

"Would you rather it be you? Would you take joy in sticking your cock into that little girl, just like the whores you love so much?" Cersei laughed, taking a sip from the goblet in her hand. Jaime gaped at her, instead of being on his side, she was making jests about it. Jaime felt the calm that had once resided in his body leave it. 

"Enough. You will do your duty and marry this girl. You will marry before Joffrey marries the Tyrell girl, stay for their wedding, and then you will get her with child and take your position as heir to Casterly Rock," Tywin shouted, Jaime slammed his hand on the table in response.

"She is a child! I swore a vow, a lifelong vow to protect the king!" Jaime growled, sending his father a glare that would make any other man shit himself where he stood. 

"You aren't doing a very good job. You just got yourself caught by the enemy. You killed the first king, your second one died on a hunt, and that was when you had both hands. I do not trust you with my son," Cersei snapped, looking at Jaime with disdain. Jaime laughed. How dare she? She knew the reasons he killed the Mad King, and she killed Robert herself. He was learning, for fuck's sake, he was learning how to fight again. It wasn't his fault that Locke saw fit to chop his hand off. Jaime laughed at that. Jaime watched as Tywin nodded curtly.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You're making him wed a child. A child who hates us all, whether she admits it or not. Gods, Joffrey had her stripped and beaten in front of the whole court, do you expect him to rape her?" Tyrion argued. Jaime nodded his head in agreement. He could not accept that this had to happen, of course, he knew how this would end, but he had to try. He had to try, for Cersei, even if she wasn't on his side right now. 

"If that is what is necessary for the good of our house," Tywin replied shortly. Jaime huffed. He hated his father at this point.

"I will never forgive you if you make me do this," Jaime snapped. Tywin let out a short sarcastic laugh.

"I do not need your forgiveness. Now, leave me. You too Cersei, I need to speak with Tyrion," Tywin ordered. Jaime glared once more before turning quickly and exiting the room. He heard Cersei close on his heels as they exited the tower of the hand. 

"Why can you not do this one thing for your family?" Cersei barked, grabbing his arm from behind him. Jaime ripped it away from her. He looked next to him to see an empty room and he pulled the woman through it before closing the door with a slam. 

"Why do you want me to marry this girl? This child?" Jaime growled. Cersei looked at him as if he was stupid. As if this was a choice for him to make. And then she laughed.

"Of course, it is what is best for the family, for our family," Cersei replied, she rolled her eyes at Jaime, which infuriated him even more, he pushed her against the wall, his left hand against her throat. 

**TRIGGER WARNING - BEGINS**

"You want me to marry someone else? To not be with you?" Jaime asked, pushing his lips against hers until she tried to push away from him. He broke the kiss. 

"You were a fool for loving me," Cersei panted, attempting to fight for control. Jaime pushed her to the ground, she tried to get up but he didn't let her. He pushed her dress up until he could see her smallclothes.

"You love me too, Cersei, don't act like you do not want me," Jaime laughed humourlessly and ripped off her smallclothes. He knew what she was, he knew her. She did not really want this. She wanted him to feel as she felt when he left. That was all it was. Cersei moaned in protest against his actions. He pulled his breeches down.

"I never loved you," Cersei cried. Jaime growled and stuck his cock hard inside of her. She let out a cry of pain. But Jaime didn't let out. He thrust hard.

"You say you don't want this. You say you don't love me, but you're soaking wet," Jaime growled. Cersei cried out in protest, Jaime moved his hand that was still around her throat to her hair, and tugged hard, arching her back. He moved his golden hand to her mouth so that he could not hear her cries. He pushed his pulsing cock harder and faster into her until she finally relaxed into him, finally, he removed his hand from her mouth, he pulled out of her and spun her around so that she was facing him. He bent down, and forced his lips on hers, she kissed him back and just as Jaime felt comfortable to release his hand from the tangled mess in her hair, she bit his lip as hard as she could. Jaime stumbled back.

**TRIGGER WARNING - ENDED**

"You fucking bitch," he spat at her. She hurried to pick herself up from the ground. She looked a mess. She laughed then.

"Are you going to tell father?" She giggled, smoothing her dress down, sending a glare in his direction. Jaime felt his nostrils flare. 

"This is your fault, you made me do this," Jaime replied instead, unusually calm for what just happened, and with that, he walked out. Away from her, if she claimed she did not love him, so be it. He knew she fucked Lancel. He knew she fucked some of the Kingsguard to get their loyalty. Why he ignored it he knew not. He stalked out of the corridor. He briefly remembered saying something about going to war for Cersei's cunt once. He knew now that that was a mistake he was not going to make again. As he turned a corner, his vision blurred with anger, he felt something run into him. Fully ready to take out his anger on whatever this was. He narrowed his eyes and blinked a few times.

"I'm so sorry, my lord," the girl below him stuttered, looking away. He frowned. Where was the wolf he had seen earlier that day?

"Don't worry about it, Lady Sansa," Jaime sighed, looking at her sadly. She cocked her head at him.

"Is there something the matter, my lord?" Sansa asked, pushing a strand of hair from her face to behind her ear. She really was quite a pretty child. At least he was not paired with the likes of Lollys Stokeworth. He heard the concern in the girl's tone, but whether it was genuine, Jaime knew not. He raised a brow at her.

"Apart from the situation in which we are currently in? Nothing can come to mind," Jaime drawled,  Jaime could have sworn he saw her smile but it was gone as quick as it came.

"I am sorry if I disappoint you, my lord," Sansa replied, bowing her head. Jaime felt a stab of pity of the girl. She had been abused by Joffrey for so long that there was none of her left half of the time. Jaime looked at her eyes. Her blue eyes were swollen and bloodshot. Jaime sighed.

"Then I must offer the same apology, surely I am not the husband you imagined for yourself when listening to the songs and reading the stories," Jaime replied, raising his brow, yet again. In his defence, he had not wanted said marriage.

"On the contrary, my lord. My father said you were a man without honour, but he was a traitor and he was wrong. You are handsome and noble, and I trust you shall be a good husband," Sansa recited, as if reading one of the stories or remembering the lyrics to a song. Jaime shook his head. The girl was not stupid, she knew how to lie. Albeit not very well, but well enough. Jaime chuckled dryly.

"Lady Sansa you may survive us yet," Jaime chuckled, and at that, the girl went quite red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is short, I promise i'll try and make them longerrrr.  
> As always, kudos and comments are very much appreciated aka I love them pls comment.


	3. SANSA II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey kidlets, heres another chapter for ya.  
> If you haven't already, check out my other fanfic 'A Final Crown of Winter Roses'  
> thanks

**KINGS LANDING**

* * *

 

Sansa replayed the previous conversation she had had with Jaime Lannister yesterday as she walked the corridors of the red keep, Shae on her heels. Joffrey had summoned her after all, and when the king calls, Sansa had to go. Of course, Shae had not seen fit to let the Stark girl go by herself. Sansa had shaken her head at that but hadn't fought with her handmaiden, lest the girl was actually Cersei's spy. Mind you, Shae had proven herself loyal to Sansa, or at the very least, someone other than Cersei. No one could be loyal to a traitors daughter, of course. Sansa took a deep breath, something she found herself doing often these days, and shivered, something else she did quite often, as she approached the king's chambers. Meryn Trant smiled quite an ugly, horrid smile as he opened the door for her. Ser Meryn was one of the kingsguard who quite enjoyed abusing her at Joffrey's command, he quite enjoyed stripping her down too. Sansa walked through the door, but before her handmaiden could follow, the kingsguard blocked her way and gestured for Sansa to continue alone, still with that sadistic smile. Sansa heard Shae walk quickly away. Sansa did not blame her, she would have done the same thing if she had the chance. Sansa took another deep breath, trying to ignore the ever apparent sound of her own heart beating.

"Lady Sansa," Joffrey greeted. Sansa would say he said it kindly, but nothing he ever did was kind. Not without an ulterior motive. Sansa smiled weakly at him and curtsied lowly down to the ground.

"Your grace," she replied, not daring to move from her position on the ground, not daring to look up. 

"You may rise, my lady," Joffrey grinned at her as she rose. He poured two cups of wine and thrust one towards her. Sansa accepted it hesitantly. Joffrey smiled once more as he gestured for her to take a seat on a lounge. She did so, as she eyed the crossbow that was resting on his wall, and the sword that was resting on his bed. 

"You are to be my aunt by marriage soon, and I value the opinion's of my family, Sansa," Joffrey began, sitting beside her, his body turned towards hers. He was close, too close. Sansa released a breath.

"Yes, I am very excited to be granted this opportunity, your grace," Sansa replied, trying to stop herself from shuddering as he placed a hand on hers. He looked at her with a strange expression.

"Tell me, Sansa. What do you think of Lady Tyrell?" Joffrey asked. Sansa blinked, that was not something that she expected. She took a long sip of her wine. Dornish Red. Just what she needed. 

"Lady Margaery is very kind. She is very beautiful, she will be a good queen," Sansa replied quickly. She believed it all to be true, of course. She pitied the girl to some extent though, being Joffrey's queen was something she wished that she had never wanted. 

"Better than you?" Joffrey smirked. Sansa sucked in a breath and took another sip of her wine. She bit the inside of her mouth and tasted the familiar hot metallic taste. She nodded slightly.

"Better than me," She echoed, "I am just a traitors daughter. I do not deserve to be your queen," 

Joffrey laughed, at that. 

"I was going to make you wed my uncle Tyrion. A traitors daughter with a dwarf. But, my grandfather has other plans for him, and this way, you will still be a Lannister," Joffrey told her. Sansa nodded. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply.

"I would rather be a Lannister than a Stark, I do not wish to live with my families shame," Sansa whispered the lie, and it felt like hot water scalding up her throat, but it must have been the right thing to say because Joffrey laughed. He moved closer to her face, and it took everything in Sansa's power not to move away. 

"Of course you would. I suppose you would like it if my uncle wouldn't fuck you well enough to get you with child. Then I would do it for him, and you would have my bastard in your belly. Would you like that, lady Stark?" Joffrey grinned, a small smile playing on his face as he leaned ever closer. Sansa nodded quickly. 

"I would be honoured, my king," She mumbled, he moved his face to hers and placed his lips on hers. She closed her eyes as started to kiss her, he forced his tongue into her mouth, and then as suddenly as it started, it was over. She slowly opened her eyes. Jaime was standing there, looking angrily at the king.

"That is my betrothed, I don't care if you're the king. She is no longer yours to torment," Jaime said angrily. He grasped her arm, in the same place as yesterday, where her bruises were still present, she noted and pulled her up from the lounge and out of the room. Sansa allowed herself to be taken from the situation and put into a new situation that she had to try and defuse.

"Why did you go there?" Jaime snapped after they arrived in a new set of rooms. Presumably his new quarters now that he was not a kingsguard. She licked her lips nervously. 

"The king summoned me, he is the king," Sansa replied, avoiding his eyes. Jaime sighed. 

"Yes, as he likes reminding people. You cannot go there anymore, Sansa," Jaime ordered. Sansa felt a surge of confidence go through her.

"You are not yet my husband, my lord," Sansa muttered. Jaime laughed.

"You would rather get raped by that little shit?" Jaime asked. Sansa avoided his eyes once more. Sansa didn't know how she would go through a lifetime with those eyes. She frowned and shook her head.

"The king gets what the king wants," she whispered, looking down to the ground. Jaime sighed deeply. She licked her lips once more, not yet daring to look up, Jaime must have noticed. She felt his heavy gaze.

"Look at me, Sansa. You're going to have to get used to it," Jaime instructed. Sansa's head snapped up, but she did not look him in the eye. She desperately wanted to leave. To not look at this man ever again. To see her family again. Perhaps have time to properly mourn her father, her brothers. She hadn't thought about her brothers much since she was first told so cruelly by Joffrey that her father's ward, Theon, someone she had treated more like a brother than Jon, her actual brother, bastard or not, had killed Bran and Rickon. Sansa let out a breath. She had so many regrets. She wished she had treated her family better, and dear gods, Arya. She was missing, Sansa hoped that she was out there somewhere, surviving. Because if anyone could survive it was wilful Arya. Jaime looked at her strangely then.

"You told me my mother wanted my sister and me back. Arya has been missing since my father was killed. Do they know? That she's missing?" Sansa asked. She paused for a moment. 

"That she could be dead?" She finally added after closing her eyes for a brief moment. Jaime looked at her sadly.

"No. They think your sister is here," Jaime sighed. Sansa could feel the pity he had for her radiating off of him. She felt her chin begin to wobble, and her eyes burn with the looming threat of tears. There was a tense silence. She wanted to leave, but her feet would not allow her this victory.

"I'm sorry for making you speak of this, traitors names must feel horrid in your mouth," She replied, looking around the room. She felt a tear slip out of the barrier she had thought she'd put up, she quickly wiped it away. She could not afford to think of her family. Not in this place, not at this time.

"Do you want a drink?" Jaime asked tiredly. Sansa sighed and nodded. She watched carefully as he walked over to where a pitcher of wine was sitting, cups placed around it. He filled both up quite slowly, he walked back to her and handed her one, she nodded in thanks. He gestured to a seat, she sat, so did he. But just as they entered a peaceful silence, whilst sipping wine and staring anywhere but one another, the door burst open, and through it, another Lannister.

"Sorry to interrupt, but Cersei wants you, lady Sansa. Your handmaiden told me I would find you here," the smallest Lannister said, looking at Sansa with pity. Sansa licked her lips. She did not want their pity.

"Of course, I shall go to meet her grace right now," She said, getting to her feet and wiping her clammy hands on her plain dress, that was getting much too small for her. Tyrion looked at her sadly once more. Jaime nodded at her, and she rushed out the door. She leant against the wall and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and moved from her position, walking quickly down the hall to where she knew the queen mothers chambers to be. She looked at the guard outside of it. 

"I'm here to see her grace, she sent for me," Sansa told him quietly. He grunted in response before knocking on the door, all whilst not breaking eye contact with the young stark girl. His eyes were hungry, Sansa tried to look anywhere but at him, before she heard Cersei call for her to enter. Sansa rushed into the room. Cersei blinked at her. Sansa composed herself quite quickly then. She curtsied lowly until Cersei laughed and told her to rise.

"Your grace. How can I help you?" Sansa said quietly. Cersei smiled sweetly and gestured for her to take a seat opposite her. Sansa did so quickly, not wanting to face the wrath of the queen mother. 

"You are marrying my brother now, little dove. We are to be sisters. We need to plan your wedding," Cersei replied, her tone was sickly sweet. Sansa licked her lips.

"I am honoured, your grace," Sansa told her, Sansa sucked in a breath, as she watched Cersei pour a glass of wine. Gods, the Lannisters were all alcoholics. Gods.

"Now, of course, your family are all traitors, so we cannot have them here. Oh, you have a bastard brother at the wall, don't you? I suppose you could send word for him to come if you would like?" Cersei asked. Sansa froze. Cersei was looking at her expectantly. Sansa sucked in a breath and licked her lips. Jon could not come here. He would not. Sansa would make sure of it. Cersei would not kill him too.

"I was never very close to my bastard brother," Sansa forced out. It was true, of course, but Cersei would not make her lose the only family she had left, regardless of how close they were.

"Of course, I just thought you would enjoy having someone to give you away. As a man of the nights watch, he cannot be held accountable for his father and half-brothers crimes," Cersei pushed. Sansa felt a shiver shoot down her spine. Sansa bit the inside of her mouth and felt as the familiar taste of blood filled her mouth. Cersei was watching her carefully, and Sansa felt herself worrying under the heavy gaze.

"Of course, I will write to him," Sansa replied quietly. She would, of course, but hopefully, she could hint that he should not come. Hopefully, he could not. Cersei smiled victoriously. 

"Now, how about your aunt Lysa, and cousin Robert?" She questioned. Sansa shook her head.

"I've never met them, your grace," Sansa replied. That was true, her mother had often spoken about her sister, but Sansa had never met the woman. Cersei smiled gently, too gently.

"We will invite them anyway, now, your bedding. Did your mother ever explain what happens during a bedding ceremony?" Cersei asked, a smirk playing on her face. Sansa nodded quickly.

"Yes, she told me that there will be some pain, but over time I will enjoy it," Sansa mumbled, Cersei laughed.

"There will be a lot of pain, little dove. Especially with Jaime, he is a grown man. He has had other lovers. He will not be gentle," Cersei replied, her smirk still evident on her face. Sansa paled and licked her lips. She wondered briefly if she knew the feeling of Jaime fucking her.

"I'm sure I deserve such pain," Sansa replied quietly. Cersei smiled.

"Yes. I'm sure you do, now. We will continue this conversation another day. I have somewhere to be." Cersei stood as she spoke, and walked to the door. Sansa followed and curtseyed lowly.

"Thank you, your grace," she mumbled and walked quickly through the door and walked straight to the quarters in which she had been gifted after her father's death. The ones by the servants quarters. SHe closed the door behind her and sat on the floor, and for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to cry. To let everything out.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments always loved pls x


	4. SANSA III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya, shortish chapter, but enjoy!

**KINGS LANDING**

* * *

 

Sansa threw the quill down in frustration. She felt Shae's eyes on her, she sighed. Shae walked over towards her and looked at her curiously. Sansa nodded, and Shae picked up the half-finished letter and threw it into the flames. Sansa picked up one more piece of paper. If this one didn't work, she was not trying any longer. She picked up the quill once more and dipped it in some ink.

_Jon,_

_I'm writing to you an invite, to my wedding. I am to wed Jaime Lannister, I am very happy about this, I've always wanted to marry a handsome knight just like the songs._

_Do you remember the time when we were younger? Down in the crypts? Do you remember how I laughed? That's how I feel now. I am worried that if you come, you may feel the same way, and then get angry with me for making you feel the way I felt in the crypts when this is the place Father died, even if he was a traitor._

_I do hope that you can make it._

_Love,_

_Sansa_

 

Sansa smiled triumphantly. The time in the crypts was not at all a happy memory. In fact, Jon and Robb had terrified the rest of the Stark children, Sansa hadn't spoken to them for several days afterwards, but Cersei did not know that. She handed it to Shae, watching as the older girl read over it. Shae's eyes narrowed.

"I thought you did not want him to come," Shae reprimanded, rolling the letter as she did so, and handing it back to Sansa. Sansa smiled once more. Then she remembered what she had been told once, that the walls have ears.

"He is my brother, of course, I want him to come," Sansa replied, shaking her head at the girl. Shae raised a brow. Sansa turned away from the woman and got the wax ready to seal the letter, even though she knew that Cersei would read it. She stood. There was no time, really, for Jon to ride here anyway. Joffrey had told her that she would be wed in a fortnight's time. Sansa had frozen then, at that dinner at which she was sat with her betrothed, listening to Margaery Tyrell laugh at Joffrey's jests sweetly, watching Cersei glare both girls that were betrothed to her brother and son, Tyrion getting drunk as always, and Tywin sitting there cold and reserved. 

She had frozen, at the exact moment, he told her the day of her wedding was coming up because that seemingly made it more real. Because that meant that her brother wouldn't have time to come and save her from the golden prison she was kept in. Joffrey had laughed at her then, and degraded her as always. But Sansa had carried on and smiled thinly at the Lannisters and the one Tyrell at the table as they stared at her. 

Sansa shook her head and stood from the small table in her chambers. Shae looked up at her from where she was now dusting off some of Sansa's clothes. Sansa looked at the sealed scroll in her hand with the direwolf sigil imprinted into the wax. She sighed before making her way through the door and heading towards the Queen Mother's chambers. She moved quite slowly through the halls, watching everybody walking past carefully, watching as they snickered at her. Perhaps they were laughing about her old, ill-fitting, plain dress. Sansa would do the same were she in their position, but alas, she was not. Instead, she was the daughter and sister of two traitors, three including her mother. Dear gods, how Sansa missed her mother. Sansa licked her lips, her eyes darting from one noble to the other. Her eyes strayed to Lollys Stokeworth, as the girl hurried through the halls with her mother. Sansa stared at the girls growing stomach before looking at her own.

She had been saved that day, by Sandor Clegane, unlike Lollys. She could have been in that situation, pregnant by a commoners child had she not been saved. Those bruises had lasted too long, made Sansa think about that day for too long. There was some joy, though. Watching people throw dung at Joffrey. Sansa averted her eyes from the pregnant woman and walked slightly faster. 

Sansa approached the door in which she knew Cersei was behind and she saw the gleaming armour before the man. 

"Ser Meryn," Sansa greeted, licking her lips. His hungry eyes sent a shiver down her spine. 

"I need to see the Queen Mother," Sansa continued into the silence. Ser Meryn looked at her once more, before turning and knocking on the large, ornate, wooden door. Sansa looked at her feet meekly, the slippers on her feet were fraying. Just like everything else in her life apparently. Sansa heard the sound of Cersei calling for her to enter. Sansa looked up then, averting her gaze from that of the knight who stared at her in a way that made her so uncomfortable. The man opened the door and Sansa walked in quickly, and automatically curtsied, low to the ground as always until Cersei commanded her to rise.

"Sansa, what can I do for you, little dove?" Cersei asked kindly, very out of her nature. Sansa looked at her and found bright green eyes staring back. She felt a shiver go down her spine at the familiarity. Sansa pulled the scroll from a pocket in her gown and handed it to the woman.

"This is my invitation to my brother Jon, your grace. I decided that I would bring it to you, because otherwise, the grand maester may think I am trying to communicate with my traitor family," Sansa explained. They both knew that Cersei would read it though, therefore they both knew the Stark girl was lying. Cersei smiled though and nodded. 

"Thank you, sweet girl. That is very thoughtful," She smiled, Sansa wondered if she thought Sansa did not know what she was thinking if she did not know that Cersei was as manipulative and cruel as her son when she wanted to be. Sansa smiled though, a thin smile but a smile nonetheless.

"Of course, I want to prove myself loyal to the crown," Sansa replied, looking down at her feet. Sudden;y, the door banged open, and Sansa flinched. She turned to look who entered and was met with another pair of green eyes, and she breathed out in relief when it was not Joffrey.

"Lady Sansa, I did not know you were here," Jaime said, his posture stiffening. Sansa blinked, she licked her lips. She looked back at Cersei.

"I can leave. My apologies, my lord," Sansa replied, but as she went to go through the door, the Queen Mother grasped onto her arm. Sansa flinched and looked back at the woman.

"Your grace?" She whispered the questioning title and Cersei pulled her back slightly.

"You do not need to leave," she laughed, "He is soon to be your husband, he can share anything with you," 

Sansa licked her lips and looked over at her betrothed. Jaime looked anywhere but her, but mostly at his sister. Sansa noticed his nostrils flaring. He was angry. She did not wish to be a witness of his anger, not yet. Cersei stood from where she was sat in front of her mirror and matched her brother's furious gaze, but somehow, Cersei's was full of the same rage Sansa had often seen in Joffrey's eyes, whereas Jaime's radiated a sad type of anger.

"Anything?" Jaime echoed, raising a brow, and then narrowing his eyes. Cersei smirked as if challenging him. Jaime shook his head, and the challenge was forfeited. He looked at Sansa then, for the first time since entering. 

"Come, Lady Sansa, we have a wedding to prepare for," Jaime instructed, gesturing for the girl to follow him. Sansa looked between the two Lannisters. She quickly curtsied to Cersei before following Jaime out of the room. She breathed in deeply in relief, but that feeling did not last for long. Jaime had stopped in front of her and was looking at her intensely. Sansa felt warm under his gaze. 

"Why the fuck do you keep going to them, Lady Sansa? Joffrey and Cersei both, you are setting yourself up for failure," Jaime reprimanded. Sansa flinched at his harsh words, but for some reason, she always felt comfortable to some extent about speaking how she felt around him. He wasn't Joffrey. He was not Cersei. 

"I will be punished if I do not," Sansa whispered. Jaime laughed a laugh without humour. She briefly wondered how this would look to the nobles, servants and guard alike who were walking past. Sansa licked her lips.

"He punishes you anyway, and everything Cersei tells you is poison in the form of pretty words," Jaime told her. Sansa looked up at him. He was right, of course, but she was stunned that the words were coming out of his mouth. He was related to them after all, and family was everything to the Lannisters. Sansa sucked in a breath. Her eyes darted wildly around them, watching as the nobles walking past eyed them and whispered.

"My lord-" Sansa began

"My name is Jaime, Lady Sansa," Jaime interrupted, running a hand through his hair. Sansa licked her lips. She started to feel warm.

"Then you must call me by my name," Sansa countered. Jaime looked at her strangely before nodding.

"Sansa," He replied, as though he was trying to prove his point.

"Jaime," Sansa countered. he looked surprised, and Sansa felt her cheeks warm even more as his amused gaze stayed on her. Sansa's eyes darted anywhere but his.

"I have something for you," Jaime finally said, breaking the silence that had fallen over the two of them. Sansa looked up in surprise. This man confused her. To begin with, in front of the court he could not even look at her, and then he commended her, and then he got angry with her, and now he's gifting her something. It was a cycle that Sansa had not yet figured out. Jaime looked at her expectantly.

"Well? Come on then," He added, he began to walk towards his chambers just down the hall, and Sansa scurried to follow him, she sucked in a breath and followed him into the chambers. 

"What is it, my lord?" Sansa asked in a whisper, she looked up then, to his eyes. He walked over to a table and let out a deep sigh. He picked something up.

"Jaime, Sansa. My name is Jaime," He sighed before walking back towards her, holding a glimmering item in his hand. She licked her lips. 

"My apologies, Jamie," She replied, the name feeling odd and bare on her tongue. He sent her a smile. Those were rare, on the occasions that she and he had been alone together, although those times were growing rapidly. The rest of her life, she thought, and the thought sent a shiver down her spine.

"I want you to have this, I know that neither of us wants this but still, it was my mothers," Jaime told her. Sansa gasped, it really was a beautiful pendant. Gleaming, with a gold rim and chain with a large ruby in the middle. He placed it in her hands, and her eyes widened.

"Jaime, this is too grand. I can not-"

"Do not say that you cannot. You will be the lady of Casterly Rock, you should dress as such. And in any case, my mother would have wanted whomever I was to marry to have it, even if neither of us wants to be in this situation. You deserve something to make up for all that you have been through," Jaime protested. Sansa licked her lips. He sounded so genuine, and the gift so valuable. Sansa did not know how to react. This was not what someone with the name of Kingslayer did. Even Joffrey was not this kind when he was courting her. Sansa sucked in a breath.

"Thank you, Jaime," Sansa whispered, looking down at the beautiful pendant. She now noticed an inscription on the back. She brought the necklace closer to her face so she could inspect it.

_Forever and Always, -T_

"Your father must have loved your mother dearly," Sansa told him. He nodded sadly.

"We all did," He replied, He gestured for her to turn around, she did so. He grabbed the pendant out of her hand and secured it around her neck. It did not at all match her clothes, which looked even shabbier in comparison. She licked her lips. Maybe this was the start of something, of friendship. Perhaps she wouldn't be so unhappy as the Lady of Casterly Rock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos and comments are much appreciated... please... I'm so lonely lmao


	5. JAIME II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a shitty week so I would really appreciate some comments.  
> Enjoy guys :):

**KINGS LANDING**

* * *

 

Jaime strode through the halls of Maegors Holdfast, the red walls, the stone was a cruel reminder of the life that had been lost, the lives that had been taken. Jaime shivered, something he did not do often,  but always when he remembered the Mad King. The green flames, so like his eyes. Cersei's eyes. And now their children. That would help him when he was watching the burning, imagining it as his mother's eyes, or as Cersei's. Almost always Cersei's. Jaime closed his eyes as he walked past the Queen's chambers, he closed his eyes. A bad idea on his part, of course, he heard the screams. The screams of his Queen as the Mad King raped and ruined her. Those screams of hers had haunted his dreams, and if he did not have them in a long while, if he ever thought they were gone, they would come back with vengeance. He walked a little faster then. Those rooms had since been renovated. The whole castle had, and Robert took the Kings quarters, and Cersei the Queens. Jamie had never felt comfortable in there. Fucking his lover in the place he could protect the Queen he pitied and loved through duty. Jaime sighed. He had felt horrible about what went down with Cersei that day in the tower. he had become the man he vowed never to see again. He sighed. It had been a week since their last meeting, which was not really a meeting, considering that the woman was accompanied in her room by the girl that Jaime was supposed to marry. 

Not that that was such a bad thing, after all, seeing he had to give her the gift that his Aunt Genna had sent. A letter had accompanied the rider that had bought the item all the from Casterly Rock. A letter that had told Jaime to do his duty, but to enjoy it at least, because he deserved some happiness she claimed. Or did he? He thought back to all the horrible acts he had committed. All the murder. 

Killing his king.

But Aerys deserved it. He deserved the sword that Jaime had shoved through his back. He saved them all, whether they knew so or not. He'd saved them from the fire. The fire that was the colour of his eyes, of Cersei's eyes. The fire that haunted him whenever he found himself looking at his own reflection. He saved them from Aerys, he saved their lives, and he was repaid with the title of Kingslayer.  A true title, a deserved title. He killed his king. He deserved the title, but not the sneer that came with it. Not the way their eyes darted away from him. Not the way the honourable Ned Stark had looked at him when the man found him sitting on the throne of his murdered king that day. But Ned Stark was dead now, by his own honour, no less. Jaime did not like him, but he respected him. In the way that Ned never respected Jaime. His own daughter has told him, Jaime's betrothed. 

His dreams were something he shared with no one. He told no one how he dreams of Rhaella's screams and plea's for help. How he dreams of the sad and beautiful Elia Martell screaming at him because he was supposed to protect her children, and the dreams of the children may have been the worst. They were the worst because they were never painful. Always of Rhaenys smiling shyly at him in the halls, or Viserys asking to tell him stories, of the way little baby Aegon would always be in his big sister's arms when they were walking, and how he would look up at him with curious eyes. Rhaegar's eyes, the eyes of the man he had failed. Rhaegar was his king, in truth. But they were all dead now, even Viserys who had fled to the other side of the Narrow Sea with his babe of a sister. But she lived, and a part of Jaime hoped that she would take over. He didn't want to be here, after all. And Joffrey was a shitter king than his supposed father. 

"My lord, are you alright?" A voice interrupted his thoughts. Thank the Gods, he couldn't stay in his head. Not when he was thinking about Before. He looked down slightly, Tyrion's whore. The Stark girl's handmaiden. Shae, her name was.

"Yes. Why?" Jaime asked tiredly. The woman sent him a raised brow and a disbelieving look.

"You've been in this position for a while. My lady was getting worried, her chambers are just down the hall slightly." 

Jaime blinked and took in his surroundings. He was by the servants quarters, leaning on the wall. Last he remembered he was by the royal chambers. The queen's chambers. Jaime sighed. Nobody knew his dreams. 

"I'm fine."

"Then why are you staring at the wall?"

"I was thinking," Jaime somewhat snapped, finally. This was getting quite tiring. She was too mouthy, for a servant. To her credit, she didn't flinch at the man's change of tone like a servant would. But then again, she was not really a servant. She was a whore. His brother's whore. Perhaps Tyrion asked her to keep an eye on him, but she had not said Tyrion, he would come himself. She had said her lady. Sansa. 

"Did you say these are Lady Sansa's quarters?" Shae looked at him as if he were stupid.

"Yes, I did," She repeated, pointing to a door that was slightly open, with a girl poking her head out. The girl must've realised she had been caught, as she went quite pink, and ducked back into the comfort of her room. Jaime chuckled slightly at that. He didn't understand this girl. He was a Lannister. The enemy. And yet, she was sending her handmaiden to check on him. The thought made Jaime pity the girl a little. A few small, insignificant act's that were not cruel made her care, even if it was just the small bit. 

"It was a lovely necklace that you gave her, it's a pity she has nothing to wear it with," Shae suddenly said, her eyes back to Jaime. He cocked his head curiously.

"What do you mean?" 

The woman barked out a short laugh, that didn't quite match her looks. Her personality on the other hand...

"She is a traitor's daughter, her chambers are close to my own, and I am her handmaiden, and her gowns are falling apart. You gave her the necklace of the Lady of a great, powerful, and rich house."

Jaime sighed. She was right. It was too grand for her current status, but Jaime hadn't the time to worry about that, he had noticed that her gowns were much less extravagant than other ladies of the keep but in truth, he hadn't cared. He hadn't put much more thought than that into it.

"What do you want me to do? We're not married yet, I cannot change her status," He replied finally. He had no idea what this woman wanted him to do. 

"Give her new rooms, and find someone to make her new gowns. She is a sweet girl, Lord Jaime. She does not deserve the way she has been treated," Shae replied coldly, before turning on a heel and marching straight back to her charges room. Jaime frowned, began walking once more. Except this time he had a destination.

His brother had new rooms, now that father was back. At first, he was kept in small chambers, hidden from the world. Hiding his new added disfigurement. If he wasn't a dwarf, that may have been seen as a mark of honour. But he lost a nose, and Jaime lost a hand. What a funny pair of brothers they were, a dwarf and a cripple. Tyrion did always say he had a soft spot for cripples, bastards, and broken things.

But Tyrion had new rooms now, nicer, bigger, rooms.

As Jaime walked into the hall in which his new rooms were located, no guard at Tyrion's door, he noticed. But his sellsword, Bronn, was surely there. Hopefully. He entered the rooms without so much as a knock. Tyrion looked up from his cup, always in his cups, his siblings.

"Brother, what can I do for you?" The man hiccupped, smiling at him in a way he only smiled when deep in his cups. Jaime grinned back.

"Your whore is trying to tell me how to gift my betrothed."

Tyrion tsked. Jaime rolled his eyes. He did not like the word whore for this one, and even so, there were little birds and spiders in the walls. 

"What is she saying?" 

"That I must give her better chambers, and new gowns."

"She has given me those concerns too. She cares for the girl," Tyrion muttered, it was a good thing. That this whore, handmaid, whatever she was, cared for Sansa. For surely not many others would. Only pity her. As Jaime did, although, pity could be counted as care enough. 

"I suppose she will have to have new chambers once you marry. So you may as well get her those. And you can't well have the future lady of Casterly Rock in the drab outfit's she's been in since her fathers head hit the ground," Tyrion continued. Jaime nodded. His brother and his whore were right. Jaime sighed. His life as a Kingsguard was much more simple than this. It had only been a few weeks, and now he had found himself ordering gowns and making arrangements for his child-bride.

"Yes, yes. Tell Shae to make the arrangements for the gowns, I shall pay. And I'll talk to the servants about moving her things into an empty room, close enough to the rest of us to be the new lady of Casterly Rock but not close to Joffrey."

"Or Cersei."

"Or Cersei," Jaime echoed. With a sigh, he sank into the closest seat and poured himself a cup of Dornish wine, he needed to follow by his sibling's example and get drunk. Especially with the dreams. Soon, he would be gone from this place. Soon, he would be free from the nightmares. From the screams.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to start doing reader questions, to get more feedback so feel free to answer the questions below :)
> 
> 1\. Ship name guys??? What do ya reckon??
> 
> 2\. What character interactions do you want to see?
> 
> 3\. How did you like seeing some of Jaime's PTSD from the war?
> 
> 4\. What do you think Tywin is planning now?
> 
> 5\. What do you guys want to see in the following chapters?


	6. SANSA IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Shae is going to give Sansa the birds and bees talk in this because she ain't jealous. So enjoy this chapter, it's my longest one yet!

**KINGS LANDING**

* * *

 

Sansa frowned as Shae pulled her corset tighter. Today was her wedding day. A day she was supposed to be jumping with joy for. Instead, she was miserable. Of course, Jaime had not been nasty to her. Quite on the contrary, he had been kinder than most but he was a Lannister. Gods, she was about to become a Lannister. The wife of a Kingslayer. A cripple. Her brother was a cripple. Oh, how she missed her family. She felt her eyes fill with tears.

"Do not cry, Sansa. He is not a cruel man, neither is Lord Tyrion. It is because of them you have these rooms, and your new clothes," Shae told her, moving to face the Stark girl. Sansa nodded. It was true, the two Lannister men were responsible for her new rooms and her new clothes. Fitting for the future Lady of Casterly Rock, Jaime had told her the last time that they spoke. His rooms were close by. She would have to be there tonight. She knew that much, and as if reading her mind, Shae began to speak again as she attached more layers to her ivory gown.

"You know what you must do tonight, Sansa? Did your mother ever talk to you about it?" She asked, worry lacing her voice. Sansa bit her bottom lip and her eyes looked at Shae's reflection in the mirror they were standing in front of. 

"She didn't, not really, but I know some things..." Sansa replied, looking down, her face flushing. Shae raised a brow.

"What do you know then?"

"I know that he will have to... He will have to touch me," Sansa whispered, she closed her eyes tightly. Shae snorted.

"He will have to do more than touch you but I suppose that is part of it," She replied. Sansa's mind filled with the threat of the supposed bastard of her betrothed.

"I know he will have to put himself inside of me," she mumbled. Shae nodded.

"He will, and it will hurt the first time but after that, it will start to feel better."

"What if I don't want too?" Sansa asked quietly, looking at the beautiful dress she was now wearing, moving over to sit so that Shae could do her hair. Shae smiled sadly.

"It may seem scary, but this is your weapon. The only thing I will agree with Cersei on is this. Our best weapon is what's between our legs. Give men that, and they will give you the world."

"I don't want a weapon, I want my family. I don't want to marry a Lannister," Sansa whined, a stray tear making its way out of her eye. Shae tsked, running the brush through her hair and bringing it to an elegant up-do.

"They are not all bad Sansa. I promise you this," Shae sighed. Suddenly, the door opened.

"Sansa, little dove. It's time. Are you ready?" Cersei asked, waltzing into the room, smelling of wine and a pair of ladies by her side.

"Almost, your grace. Shae, my necklace," Sansa instructed, watching as the Lorathi woman moved to collect the pendant and clasp it around her neck, discreetly wiping the tear trail from her face, she stood. Cersei's eyes narrowed to the pendant.

"You look beautiful. Come, little dove. TIme to wed," Cersei snarled. Sansa licked her lips, suddenly cold. She sucked in a breath and clasped Cersei's outstretched hand. The blonde woman pulled her along with a false smile on her face.

"You know, little dove, that's my mother's pendant around your pretty little neck," Cersei smirked. Sansa closed her eyes briefly.

"I know, your grace. Ser Jaime told me so when he gifted it to me."

Cersei's features tightened and she dropped Sansa's hand.

"That was meant to be mine. My mother promised it to me when I was young."

"I'm sorry, your grace, but Jaime gifted it to me," Sansa stuttered. Cersei laughed.

"Jaime? You call him by his name already?" Cersei asked, looking at Sansa sceptically. Sansa froze, her eyes darting anywhere but at Cersei. 

"He asked me too. If you'll excuse me, your grace. I must go, they must be waiting for me. You should be on your way too if it pleases your grace, I'm sure you wouldn't want to miss your brother's wedding," Sansa replied, curtsying quickly and walking towards the litter. She hurriedly got into it and let out a breath.

Time flew, as she waited to be presented at the Sept, and now she was here. Climbing out of the litter, she looked up the steps. She licked her lips and began to climb. This is something to start. This is her start. She can leave Kings Landing. Remembering what Shae said about her weapon, Sansa braced herself. Her last moments alone for the day. She completed the many stairs to find the King waiting for her.

"Your Grace, what are you doing?" Sansa asked, eyeing the cloak in his arms.

"Walking you to your husband," he smirked, placing the cloak around her shoulders. A Stark cloak. Sansa thought she might cry, but she did not. She took a breath and took the arm that Joffrey was offering her. The doors opened, and all eyes were on her, she met Jaime's eyes. He looked just as frightened as she felt. Thank the Gods. But he was still a Lannister. She took a deep breath and found herself beside her soon-to-be husband. She felt Joffrey drop her arm and go to stand beside his family. Sansa looked up then. Into Jaime's bright green eyes, and she winced slightly. She took a deep breath.

"You may now cloak the bride, and bring her under your protection," The Septon droned. Sansa turned her back to Jaime and she felt her Stark cloak lifted off of her shoulders and replaced with another, the Lannister cloak,

"My lords, my ladies, we stand here in the sight of Gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul. Now and forever," The Septon said

"Now and forever," Jaime and Sansa echoed together, each as stiff as the other. Sansa bit her lip. They placed their hands on top of one another and the Septon placed a ribbon on top of their hands and tied a knot.

"Let it be known that Lord Jaime of the house Lannister and Lady Sansa of the house Stark are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder." The Septon announced as he lets go of the ribbon where their hands were sealed.

"In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity," He said. Sansa looked up at Jaime, he avoided her gaze, and so Sansa looked to the ribbon that the Septon was now unravelling.

"Look upon each other and say the words," The Septon finally commanded. Sansa looked anywhere but Jaime's eyes as they began.

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger," They recited together.

"I am hers/his and she/he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days," They say finally, Sansa was now trapped. Trapped with the Lannister name. Trapped with a Lannister name, but somehow she felt more powerful than she had as Sansa Stark.

"With this kiss, I pledge my love," Jaime stated, he leaned in and placed his lips on hers and pulling away as soon as the kiss had started. Sansa looked down, and the sound of applause filled the Sept. This was the start. The start of something, but Sansa hadn't quite worked out what.

* * *

 

Sansa slumped in her seat further. She and her husband had just finished dancing. The most awkward dance she had ever experienced. He had barely said two words to her since they had arrived back in the castle. They had been at this feast for hours, and it was getting to the time that she had heard everyone whispering about. The bedding ceremony. Sansa had been wondering what to do all night. She knew what she had to do, of course, but she wanted to listen to Shae. Make herself a weapon. She wanted to feel powerful. Shae had told her this was a woman's weapon, she had agreed with Cersei to tell her so. Sansa sighed and her eyes found the King in the middle of the crowd, standing up and beginning to yell.

"It's time for the bedding ceremony!" He screamed in delight. Sansa's eyes widened, and before she could get to her feet, the cheers stopped when Jaime called out to the crowd with a snarl.

"There will be no bedding ceremony." 

Jaime stood and pulled Sansa up with him. She stumbled as he pulled her out of the hall.

"My lord-"

"Jaime," He snapped, interrupting her as the pair entered his rooms. Sansa pulled free from his grasp. Her mind began to run a thousand leagues a minute. She couldn't do this. She could not go through with it. She shook her head. She had too. She looked at the man, who was pouring them both a drink, after not having one all night, Sansa walked over to the now full glass that he had poured her and drank it in one mouthful. Jaime looked at her, his face a mix between impressed and annoyed. Sansa turned away from him and towards the bed. She took a deep breath and began to strip off her clothes until she was only in a shift. She unbraided her hair and turned towards her husband.

"Jaime."

He looked over at her, and she walked slowly towards him. He raised a brow.

"What are you doing Sansa?" he asked. Sansa chewed on her bottom lip.

"We have to consummate our marriage," she replied, looking at him. Her eyes darted to the golden hand connected to his arm.

"You're still a child. We won't until you're ready," Jaime replied. Sansa laughed.

"I'm no longer a child. My innocence was stripped away when my fathers head hit the ground, when I was stripped in court, and when I was beaten and abused. I am ready, my lord."

Jaime blinked at her and stood.  

"You really think you're ready?" Jaime asked with a raised brow. Sansa licked her lips and nodded. He moved towards her and wrapped his whole arm around her waist, pulling her to him. He bent down, his lips grazing her ear. She shivered, pulling away slightly.

"If you were ready you would not have tried to pull away," he whispered, letting go and turning away from her. Sansa frowned. This was her moment to grasp some sort of hold on him. She walked towards him quickly and made him turn toward her. Her thoughts left her head, and she did something she would have never imagined herself doing.

She pressed her lips to his, and suddenly he was in control. He kissed her fiercely, and she found herself enjoying it much more than she would care to admit. He sat on the bed then, and she was on top of him. He broke apart from her.

"Are you sure?" he breathed, a flash of worry danced in his eyes. Sansa nodded. The sooner this was over the better for her. Sansa took a deep breath and began to unbutton his tunic. He watched her do so, and soon he wore only a thin shirt, and the pair were attached once again. Sansa pulled away quickly though and watched as Jaime undid his trousers. Sansa took a deep breath and lifted her shift over her head. Jaime sucked in a breath.

"This will hurt, and I'll need to do something to make it more comfortable. Okay?" Jaime breathed. Sansa nodded, and as he untied the undergarments she was wearing, she felt pale. She had never felt so vulnerable, but somehow so powerful at the fire in her husband's eyes. He pushed her onto the bed softly, and she closed her eyes. She felt him place a few small kisses along her stomach, he moved down to her inner thigh and kissed up her leg slowly until he arrived at her entrance. He found her clit and began moving his tongue over it, sucking, causing the Sansa to cry out in pleasure. They said this would hurt, and if this was the pain they spoke of then Sansa had never known pain. He found her entrance with his fingers and began moving them slowly in and out. Sansa panted slightly, her eyes still closed. Jaimie pushed on her clit with his tongue, before swirling his tongue around it once more. Sansa moaned, thrusting her hips slightly up towards Jaime. She felt herself blush at her forwardness. He continued these motions, picking up the pace of both until the Sansa felt a wetness pool between her thighs.

Jaime moved away from her entrance and Sansa opened her eyes, trying to find why the pleasure had stopped. She watched as he removed his own small clothes and suddenly, her legs were spread apart and the thing between his thighs was inside of her. Sansa cried out, in pain this time. It had a strange feeling to it. Somewhat nice but it hurt. This must have been the pain everyone spoke of. Sansa closed her eyes once more and then he was moving, in and out. Slowly though. Sansa kept her eyes closed as his member moved within her, she bit her lip to contain the painful cry she wanted to release, and then a warm feeling came inside of her and he pulled out. She opened her eyes. He looked at her sheepishly.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you," he murmured, laying beside her. She shook her head, pulling the covers over their bodies.

"It's okay," she whispered in return before turning on her side facing away from the man. She hoped Shae was right. She hoped the feeling got better over time. She took a deep breath. She was now a woman. She was now Sansa Lannister. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader Questions
> 
> 1\. How did you like Shae's motherly advice?
> 
> 2\. What do you reckon Cersei is going to do about the pendant?
> 
> 3\. How did you like their sex scene?
> 
> 4\. ALSO GUYS THE FIRST TWO EPISODES OF SEASON 8 THOUGHTS! GO!
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated


	7. SANSA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two in one week? :o

**KINGS LANDING**

* * *

 

When Sansa woke, her husband was nowhere to be seen, the bed she was in was empty. She lifted herself up, the open balcony door allowing the cold air to meet with her naked body. She felt the ache between her legs, then but it was not a painful ache, much like when she had ridden a horse for too long but more intimate. Sansa's eyes found Shae's, who was placing some fruit on the table. She must've only been here for a short while. Sansa's face flushed at her own nudity, even if it was only in front of someone who had basically already seen her. Shae smirked as her eyes looked at the bed.

"You did it then?" she asked, raising a brow. Shae moved to get a slip for Sansa to put on. Sansa took it gratefully and nodded.

"How was it?" 

Sansa bit her lip and felt her face heat.

"It hurt, but not as much as I thought it would. He did something before that though, it was..."

"Sansa, did you enjoy it?" Shae smiled coyly. Sansa turned away from the woman. It felt nice, perhaps, but she didn't enjoy it. Jaime was a Lannister. He was the twin of Cersei, the supposed father of Joffrey. Sansa had not given herself up for pleasure. She had given herself up for power. 

"No, but I did it anyway," Sansa admitted. Shae moved over to her and placed her hands on each of Sansa's arms.

"Sansa..." Shae began. Sansa pulled free from Shae's grasp. 

"I don't wish to speak of it, Shae."

"Sansa. I have not always been a handmaiden, you knew it from the moment I entered your service. I can help you if you want."

That caught Sansa's attention. She looked at the woman sceptically.

"How?" she asked. Shae shook her head.

"Another day, when you're ready. I will teach you but now, we must get you ready. A Lannister family luncheon has been announced in the dining hall and as the newest member, you are invited."

Sansa took a breath and whilst Shae hurried herself to get Sansa ready, Sansa was lost in thought. She was aching, in so many different ways. Her dreams were always a struggle, she always dreamt of her father. She dreamt of Bran and Rickon being burnt alive by Theon. Sometimes she even dreamt of Arya, running from someone but safe. Those dreams always woke her up. Always trapped a scream in her throat and tears in her eyes. Her family had suffered so much, and it was Sansa's fault. If she hadn't gone to Cersei and told her that her father was planning on leaving they would have all been safe in Winterfell, together.

"You need to sit Sansa. You're taller than me, I can't do your hair from here," Shae tried to joke. Sansa obliged but shook her head as Shae tried to begin a southern design.

"Do a northern braid," She commanded. Shae tsked.

"You will be punished."

"I'm the future lady of the Rock now. I can do as I please," Sansa replied. She closed her eyes. She didn't believe herself, Sansa didn't think that Shae believed her either until she stood and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes widened. She looked the part, in a dark red gown with light gold embellishments. She tied the necklace that Jaime gifted her weeks ago around her neck. Sansa's hair was tied in a northern braid but wrapped around itself to make a bun on the top of her head. She smiled slightly. 

"My septa always told me not to wear red or gold. She said it would clash with my hair," Sansa told Shae. The older woman smiled slightly.

"Now they're your house colours and they don't clash. Septa's don't know everything," Shae replied. Sansa nodded.

"She's dead now," Sansa added, turning away from the woman and exiting the room.

Sansa closed her eyes briefly as she walked down the corridor. She trusted Shae to an extent, but the woman was so caring towards Sansa it seemed fake. If it weren't for the Lorathi woman, she probably would have been in her old shabby ill-fitting gowns and her small rooms. Sansa knew that all her previous handmaidens were Cersei's creatures but she had not yet figured out Shae. Suddenly, she ran into a tall man. She stuttered her way through an apology before realising who it was.

"It seems we always meet this way, Sansa." Jaime acknowledged. Sansa felt her face flush as memories of the previous night intruded into her thoughts. She curtsied lowly.

"My lord," she replied quietly.

"Jaime."

"My apologies. Jaime," Sansa corrected herself. Jaime smiled briefly before offering his arm to her.

"Shall we?" he asked kindly. Sansa took his arm mutely as they made their way to the dining hall together. Sansa snuck a look at her husband. He showed no signs of embarrassment or awkwardness, not as she was feeling. Sansa licked her lips as the pair entered the small hall in which the whole Lannister family was already seated and they all went silent. Jaime and Sansa took the last two empty seats. 

"Lady Sansa. Or should I call you aunt Sansa now?" Joffrey grinned, looking at Sansa in a strange way.

"Your grace can call me as he wishes," Sansa replied, taking a sip of the cup in front of her. Dornish wine. Perfect. Joffrey raised a brow.

"Well, of course, you would only really be my aunt if the marriage was consummated."

Sansa choked on the wine going down her throat and her eyes widened. The table was silent.

"That is enough," Tywin intercepted, sending a disapproving look towards his grandson. Joffrey scoffed and looked down at his plate that a server was now piling with a serve of meat.

"I see you have the pendant that Genna sent. It belonged to my wife." Tywin pointed to the pendant around Sansa's neck. Sansa looked down slightly, and her empty hand found it's way to the pendant.

"It's a beautiful piece of jewellery, my lord. Thank you for allowing it for me," Sansa replied. Tywin nodded curtly.

"I wasn't aware that traitors daughters deserved the necklace of a great lady," Joffrey sniggered. Sansa saw Cersei smirk. 

"I never said I deserved it, nor the kindness you have shown me in my time here," Sansa responded. Tyrion chuckled, and all eyes were on him.

"What's so amusing, uncle?" Joffrey asked. Tyrion shook his head and took a sip from his cup.

"I don't want beets!" Tommen then yelled at the server, distracting the attention of the table.

"Tommen. That is no way for a prince to behave," Tywin scolded. Joffrey raised a brow at his grandfather.

"He is a prince, if he does not want beets he needn't have them," Joffrey commanded in a bored tone. Sansa looked between the pair, Joffrey had never been so argumentative with Tywin. The older man rolled his eyes but said nothing further. The group ate in almost silence until they were waiting for the cakes to be brought out.

"So, Sansa. Do you think you will have a child soon? After all, uncle Jaime has been deprived of a whore for years," Joffrey asked, turning the attention onto Sansa once more. Sansa licked her lips.

"If the Gods are willing," she answered, but as she was doing so, Jamie stood, and slammed his golden fist into the table. 

"Enough. We're leaving," he growled. He pulled Sansa from her seat in a simple motion, and the pair left the room in which Joffrey was seething and Tyrion was cackling.

"You needn't have done that," Sansa said quietly as the pair walked along the halls. Jaime laughed bitterly.

"You're telling me you liked the way they were speaking to you?" 

"His grace can speak to me as he wishes."

Jaime rolled his eyes at that and the pair entered the man's chambers. Sansa sat on the lounge and looked up at her husband.

"Perhaps you just didn't like the way his grace was speaking of you," Sansa suggested. Jaime looked at her with annoyance. 

"His grace can speak to me as he wishes," Jaime mimicked, pouring them each a cup of wine. He walked over and handed it to her. She took a large sip.

"Why do you stand up for yourself when we're alone but not when my little shit of nephew is saying those things?" Jaime asked. Sansa's eyes widened, she looked up from her cup.

"I do stand up for myself, and I've been punished for it." Sansa defended, standing from the seat and walking away from him. She walked into the next room and shut the door. She looked around the room, it was the bathing room. A stone bath stood tall, and an empty chamberpot sat in the corner. Sansa slid down against the door and placed her hands in her hands. This whole situation was ridiculous, she was married to a Lannister. Gods, she fucked a Lannister, she could have a Lannister child. She hadn't thought of that before Joffrey made the comment he had earlier. Perhaps, she didn't think her acts last night through, not as she should have. She heard a knock on the door, interrupting her thoughts.

"Sansa? Are you alright?" Jaime called through the door. Sansa stayed silent, in lieu of answering and felt tears well up in her eyes. She let out a large breath. She sat there for what felt like hours but must have been only minutes, because the next thing she heard was a door slam on the outside of her own space.

"What the fuck was that Jaime?" She heard snarled. 

"Cersei-"

"You sit there with that little whore and let her wear our mother's pendant?"

"Cersei, please-"

"You disrespect your own blood, your son, for her?" Cersei cried. Sansa's eyes widened. The rumours must have been true. Stannis was right. Sansa felt dirty, she had been in the same position as Cersei.

"Enough!" Jaime yelled. Sansa heard the door slam once more. She stood from her position, eyes wide and tears stopped. She heard a knock on the door once more.

"Sansa? Did you... Did you hear that?" he called through the door. Sansa pulled the door open to meet her wide-eyed husband.

"I fell asleep on the ground. You knocking woke me, if you'll excuse me," Sansa replied tiredly, feigning a yawn. She walked around the man, whose face had contorted into an expression of surprise and relief. Sansa exited the room, and almost ran to her own. She sat on her bed and ripped off the pendant. She stared at it. What had she done to herself?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reader questions:
> 
> 1\. do you reckon Jaime believed Sansa?
> 
> 2\. what do you think Sansa will do with this information?
> 
> 3\. How'd you like the family lunch?
> 
> 4\. Why do you think Sansa had her mini go at Shae?
> 
> 5\. EPISODE THREE WHAT THE FUCK SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN


	8. JAIME

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. I've had a lot of trouble with school lately, gods i almost failed last term because I was so focused on this fanfic and my other one rather than school work. So my updates may be less frequent but I still will update as much as possible. Anyways, enough of me. Have fun with this chapter!

**KINGS LANDING**

* * *

 

Jaime paced in his chambers, the events of the previous weeks running through his mind. She said she hadn't heard but Jaime didn't believe her. He had pushed Sansa's brother out of a window to protect his and Cersei's secret and now he was doing nothing. He knew he couldn't do anything though. He knew. It had been almost two weeks, and Sansa had barely spoken to him, which is why he had paid the situation to mind but now that the kings wedding was drawing closer, Jaime became more and more worried about what the girl could do with that type of power over him. He finally sat, taking off the golden hand that felt heavier than it was meant to today. He let out a breath of air, he simply wished that he didn't need to face the consequences of love. He paused, he supposed that's what happened to Rhaegar and his family. They faced the consequences of Rhaegar's love. He had dreamt quite often of the Targaryen's lately. One night, he had dreamt that Rhaegar had won, and now Jaime was serving in the Kings Guard but as a personal guard to a young man with dark hair and a young woman, heavy with child. He had felt as though he had recognised them but now that he was awake, he could not remember their faces. Jaime sometimes hated that the Targaryens still plagued his sleep but sometimes those dreams made him happier than he had ever been. 

All of a sudden, the door to Jaime's chambers burst open and for the first time in over a week, he was face to face with his wife. Her face went red, as the whore entered the room behind her. Sansa's back straightened.

"My lord, I was told that you were with your brother," Sansa forced out, sending a look at Shae who simply shrugged. Jaime raised a brow.

"Jaime," he corrected out of habit, "I was with my brother, but that was this morning,"

"My apologies, Jaime. I... I left a shawl here after the family luncheon and I've only just realised it was missing," Sansa replied. The girl's face was still bright red and her expression, nervous.

"I take it you didn't wish to see me then," Jaime commented, his eyebrow raised. Jaime watched his wife's eyes flicker over to the stump on his arm and then to the golden arm on the table as she spoke her next words.

"No, of course-"

"Does my arm bother you, my lady?"

"No!" The girl stuttered out. Her eyes widened as she realised that he noticed her movements. Shae scoffed and stepped in front of her charge.

"May we get the shawl, my lord?" Shae called, raising a brow at him. Seemingly challenging him. Jaime rolled his eyes and nodded, watching as Shae moved to get the piece of fabric that Jaime hadn't noticed was laying on his lounge. Simply proved how often he spent in his chambers. Sansa stood in the doorway, her face still red, looking down at the slippers on her feet. As Shae returned to her charge, and the pair turned to leave, Jaime called out. 

"Wait a moment."

Sansa froze, slowly turning to face the man. Jaime froze too, he hadn't quite thought about why he asked her to wait. 

"Have dinner with me," he said instead, his own body tensing, "we are married after all."

Sansa licked her lips, and her eyes darted to Shae as if looking for assurance.

"The king has requested that I meet him for dinner, he and her grace," Sansa replied. Jaime paused.

"Why didn't you speak to me of this?" Jaime snapped. This girl would be the death of him. He made a vow to get her back to her mother. He couldn't do that, but he would at least try to keep her safe. Brienne would never let him forget, the stubborn, prideful, woman. 

"His grace told me not to... The queen mother told me it was just to be the three of us."

"Sansa... You need to tell me about these things. My nephew..." Jaime took a breath as he watched Sansa lick her lips and her eyes close briefly, "You know what he is."

Sansa shook her head.

"He is the hero of Kings Landing. Our benevolent ruler. He has the same strength as his father," Sansa replied, her back straightening. Jaime froze. He may not have the same wit that Tyrion did, but he could recognise what she was doing. Unless he was just paranoid, waiting for her to strike. She was a little girl, he reminded himself, a little girl who may know his deepest secret.

"And you believe that?" Jaime asked, with a raised brow. Sansa looked down before looking at him with humourless eyes.

"You don't?" She asked, turning from him and leaving the room. Shae hesitated, sending a sorry sort of look at the man before following Sansa dutifully through the door. 

Jaime slumped into the chair he had previously inhabited before Sansa had walked in, and rubbed his eyes. He knew what he was supposed to do. He groaned, pushing himself back up from the chair, and looked down at his attire. This was acceptable enough for a dinner with his wife... and sister... and son. 

Jaime huffed before exiting the room, watching as the servants began lighting the torches along the walls, causing a warm glow to fill the halls. Jaime watched the shadows dance along the walls and he remembered when the red walls had a green glow, and the shadows no longer danced but strained for freedom. Cersei had always told him he did what he had to do. He had done what was right for their family. Sometimes, Jaime wondered what would have happened if he had gone to Dragonstone with Rhaella, or spirited Elia and her children away. Sometimes he wondered what would have happened had he not been young and stupid. Perhaps he would have been across the Narrow Sea right now protecting the 'Mother of Dragons' as the young Targaryen girl had been dubbed. Jaime took a deep breath before coming face-to-face with a kingsguard.

"Ser Meryn," Jaime said stiffly. He had never tried to hide his distaste for the man. The knight smiled at him, his ugly teeth showing through his malicious smile.

"Lord Jaime," he replied, still smiling sickly and not moving a muscle.

"Let me through," Jaime ordered tiredly, standing up straighter. Meryn laughed.  

"His Grace does not wish to be interrupted," Meryn stated, looking away from Jaime, a smirk now adorning his face. 

Jaime gritted his teeth, this man was getting on his nerves. So Jaime did what he did best; fought. He pushed Meryn aside with a rough shove and entered the room, leaving the knight yelling behind him and three surprised faces staring up at him. He smirked.

"Sorry, I'm late," Jaime stated lazily, pulling a chair over to the table they were sitting at. 

"You weren't invited," Joffrey replied, raising a brow at his uncle. Jaime rolled his eyes and gestured a servant for a cup of wine which was quickly given to him. He sipped.

"My wife was, I go where she goes," Jaime replied. Joffrey scoffed. Cersei looked unimpressed and Sansa simply looked terrified. Jaime looked between the three with amusement. Sansa was wearing that shawl, he noticed, but not the pendent.

"Well, we were just talking about my upcoming wedding. There are to be 77 courses, I don't expect true ladies to eat all of it, of course. They should hope they don't get fat and ugly," Joffrey commented, looking at Sansa. The girl looked down.

"I'm sure you will be safe from a fat and ugly bride, Joffrey. Your betrothed is a slender little thing," Cersei assured. Joffrey smirked.

"Yes, I'm quite glad I am marrying her instead, some people aren't quite so lucky," Joffrey agreed. Jaime looked at Sansa. He had seen what was under her dress. She barely ate as it was. She was just as slender as Margaery Tyrell, probably even more.

"Yes, some people end up with wives such as those Frey girls. Luckily, we have none quite so 'fat' here," Jaime gritted his teeth as he spoke. Sansa went red. She did not deserve this, she had been through enough. Jaime watched as the food was brought out and an extra plate was set in front of him. 

"So," Joffrey began, whilst taking a bite of a piece of chicken, "Have you got your wife with child yet? I can't imagine she was too passionate as a lover,"

Sansa was taking a sip of her wine at that time and she choked on it, coughing quite a lot as she tried to swallow the red liquid. Joffrey and Cersei both looked at her in disgust.

"I'll take that as a no then," Joffrey smirked. Jaime glared at his nephew.

"You can take it however you like, it's none of your business," he snapped. Cersei shot a look in his direction.

"He is the king, everything is his business," Cersei defended. Jaime rolled his eyes. ' _He shouldn't be king_ ', he wanted to say. _'He is cruel and spiteful. He is all of your bad qualities, he is all of mine'_

"Not everything," he said instead, hoping she caught his hidden meaning. Joffrey stood, his face becoming redder.

"I am the king!" Joffrey yelled. Jaime smirked and remembered something his father had always said.

"Any man who must say 'I am the king', is no king at all," Jaime quoted with a sombre expression. Joffrey glared at his uncle.

"Get out. I don't need a cripple in my presence," Joffrey sneered, Jaime smiled.

"happily," he replied, pulling Sansa along with him.

"I did not give her permission to leave!" Joffrey screamed after them as they left the room.

Jaime huffed. His day always seemed to end like this, pulling Sansa from the grips of his family. She licked her lips as they walked along.

"Jaime." Sansa tried to speak but he hushed her, pushing her softly into his chambers. 

"I told you not to go to him anymore. Not without telling me," Jaime snapped, looking the girl in the eye. She flinched.

"The king's punishments far outweigh any you could bestow upon me, my lord," she replied. Jaime huffed. Of course, her snappy side came out now.

"Where was that attitude in there?" 

"I don't have any attitude. I am simply telling the truth," Sansa replied, her meekness setting in. Jaime moved away from her and went to sit on the lounge. She paused, before following him and taking a deep breath.

"Your father made you marry me to provide an heir to your house, did he not?" Sansa whispered. Jaime's head snapped up.

"What?" 

When the girl didn't answer he shook his head.

"I suppose. Why?" Jaime sighed. The girl shifted uncomfortably.

"My- My moonblood, it has not come since..." she trailed off. Jaime's eyes widened. This could not be happening. They had only done it once. Oh, gods. 

"Have you seen a maester?" he asked stiffly. He had not expected this. He was surprised she came to him. Fucking hell. She shook her head.

"Grand Maester Pycelle makes me uncomfortable. I didn't want to go to him. I've spoken to my handmaiden... She agreed that I could be..." 

Jaime stayed silent. He didn't know what to say. The only children he had ever had experience with were his sisters, but he was their uncle. He had to be their uncle, not their father. He supposed this was why she choked on her drink at the dinner.

"Are you unhappy?"

Jaime looked at her with a frown. He didn't know why she was asking this either. She didn't care if he was happy about this or not. 

"I don't know what I am," Jamie frowned and looked up at her, "What about you? Are you unhappy?" 

Her eyes widened. She froze.

"I don't know either," she eventually said, sitting in a chair across from the lounge. They sat like that, for a long time. Thinking about the possibility of a babe sitting in her stomach.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader Questions;
> 
> 1\. Do you think Sansa is pregnant?
> 
> 2\. did anyone who reads my other fic 'A Final Crown of Winter Roses', get that reference at the start?
> 
> 3\. What do we think Sansa is gonna do with the info about Jaime and Cersei?
> 
> 4\. Okay guys, episode 5 thoughts, go!
> 
> 5\. Theories on what could happen in the Game of Thrones finale?


	9. SANSA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, just putting it out there. I use little bits from both the show and the books. Mostly the show though. For the ages, for example. I'm using the show age of about 15 for Sansa and for Jaime I'm using the book age of about 32/33.

**KINGS LANDING**

* * *

 

Sansa laid on the table, shifting uncomfortably as someone poked and prodded around her private area. Jaime looked just as uncomfortable as her though, his eyes flitting everywhere but her. She was kind of glad. He did this to her after all. Sansa wished there were women that could do this, she knew she would be much more comfortable with a woman helping her rather than this strange old man. He finally stopped, his head coming up from under her shift. 

"Congratulations, my lord, my lady. You are with child," The maester smiled kindly in his speech, but Sansa was frozen. She was with child. Pregnant. WIth Jaime Lannisters child. They had only been married for two moons. Less than. 

"Now, it is still rather early, usually it would take another few weeks for a woman to tell but you noticed straight away."

"How big?" Sansa whispered to the maester, ignoring the way Jaime looked at her.

"How big? Hmm, the babe is probably about this big, smaller than a grape," The maester replied, holding his fingers a small distance apart. Gods, it was tiny.

"Leave us," Jaime suddenly said. The maester nodded.

"Shall I inform the hand, my lord?" The maester asked quizzically as he opened the door. Jaime shook his head.

"I will do so."

The maester nodded and left the room. Sansa sat on the bench that she was previously lying on, she looked at the floor. Jaime said nothing. She said nothing. Until.

"How long did you suspect?" Jaime asked. She could feel his gaze burning through her. She licked her lips. 

"A little less than a week," Sansa replied. He didn't sound happy. Perhaps he was truthful when he said he didn't want this marriage either. Maybe he just wished she was Cersei. 

"And you continued ignoring me for that week?" 

"I was not ignoring you, my lord."

"Fucking hell. How many times must I tell you my name?" Jaime snapped. Sansa looked up, he looked scared. She had gotten quite good at telling when someone was afraid, it was how she lived, after all. 

"I was not ignoring you, Jaime," Sansa corrected in a whisper. 

"I haven't seen you in anything more than a public setting where our presence was required for over two weeks," Jaime replied. Sansa took a breath. She couldn't tell him she knew. She didn't know how to react to what she heard, the conversation was still burning in her mind. She stayed silent, Jaime took that as a sign to continue obviously.

"I haven't seen you wear the pendant either. I can't say I'm often one to notice these things but it's a large item. it's quite easy to notice," Jaime continued. Sansa looked up. She couldn't tell the truth, but she couldn't lie either. Everyone told her she was a horrible liar.

"Her Grace told me I did not deserve it, I do not wish to displease her," Sansa said instead. Jaime scoffed and another silence ensued. Sansa's hand wandered to her stomach, no bigger than a grape. How was she supposed to protect something that small, that innocent when she could barely protect herself. How was she supposed to love the child of a killer? How was she supposed to tell Joffrey, tell Cersei? How was she supposed to trust that Jaime would always be there to protect them? She didn't trust him. She didn't know whether his kindness was his own or because his father told him to do so? The Lannisters killed her father. They were at war with her brother. The only true brother she had left. Of course, she had Jon, but he would hate her. She treated him as horribly as her mother had. 

"I'm sorry, Sansa," Jaime breathed, breaking the uncomfortable silence that they had created. Sansa's head snapped up. She opened her mouth to speak but she could not get any words out. She simply looked down, taking a deep breath. She bit the inside of her cheek, feeling blood rush into her mouth. She pondered for a moment before she decided to voice her thoughts.

"I don't want you to be sorry. I just want you to know what this means. You can't fulfil your oath to my mother."

Sansa watched as Jaime looked down, an ashamed expression on his face. Sansa watched as he closed his eyes, and kept them that way as Sansa sat there, waiting for a response.

"I didn't want to break it. I don't know how to take you home, Sansa. If you want, you can drink moontea. We'll just tell people you lost it, it was too early," Jaime offered. Sansa looked at him, astounded. She shook her head. There had been too much death. She would not kill an innocent life just because of an oath that could never be fulfilled, but still. Him even offering that was... Very un-Lannister.

"I- No. I don't want that. I'm sorry. I-"

Sansa's apology was interrupted though, by a line of people entering the room. Sansa looked at them nervously, falling to the ground to curtsy as she saw who the line consisted of.

"Your graces, my lords," She greeted whilst looking down.

"Rise, aunt," Joffrey replied. A million thoughts were racing through Sansa's mind. The first being, how on earth did they know where she was?  She stood, walking to reside next to Jaime. He looked at her apologetically. She closed her eyes.

"I've just had a visit from a maester. You've done well, Jaime," Tywin said curtly. Jaime nodded mutely as Sansa's eyes reopened. Her eyes caught Tyrion's. He looked at her with pity. She would not take pity from a dwarf. She looked away quickly. The triumphant look in Cersei's eyes caught Sansa's and suddenly she wished she was looking anywhere else.

"We were going to tell you ourselves, I told the maester as much," Jaime replied stiffly. Joffrey laughed then. Sansa felt herself tearing up. She couldn't. Not now. Gods, how were they all here? How did they all find out at the same time? 

"You don't look very excited, Lady Sansa. You're with a Lannister child, after all!" Joffrey snickered, smirking horribly at Sansa. She perked up, straightening her posture and blinking quickly at Joffrey. As if she didn't already know what her situation was.

"I am excited, your grace. Simply surprised, that is all," Sansa replied. Tyrion chortled.

"Yes, we all are!" the dwarf laughed, looking at his brother in an odd way. Cersei smirked.

"She does come from a fertile family. Her mother had five children in the space of 16 years, she might have been able to have more had her husband been alive to put them in her," Cersei commented. Sansa drooped, then, at the mention of her family. She wondered for a moment, what her mother would think of her now. She watched as Tyrion climbed onto a chair, closing his eyes. She felt a stab on envy. If only she could do that, close her eyes and ignore the people in front of her.

"Yes. Well, in any case, you will need some things to help with the pregnancy. Whatever you may need, come to me and I will acquire it for you. You are a Lannister now, Lady Sansa. You will be treated as such," Tywin told her, albeit aiming the last part towards his daughter and grandson. Sansa nodded. How strange. Tywin Lannister, the great lion of the rock, was telling Sansa Stark, a traitors daughter, that he would help her. Sansa smiled briefly at the man, a fake smile but smile nevertheless.

"Thank you, my lord," Sansa replied. Sansa looked at Jaime, but his face was still hardened and he barely glanced at her before speaking.

"Yes, that is very kind of you father," Jaime said, suspicion entering his tone. Tywin nodded curtly. Joffrey glared at the pair. 

"No! Grandfather, she's a Stark. She does not deserve to get anything that she wants!" Joffrey shouted. Tywin rolled his eyes at his grandson. A faint snore began to sound through the room from the small sleeping man on the chair at the back of the room. Sansa licked her lips.

"She is a Lannister now. This is not your decision to make," Tywin replied. Sansa didn't know how he stayed so calm when dealing with his grandson. She admired him in a way, admired but feared. She feared them all. 

"I am the king! Every decision is mine to make!" 

Tywin sent a glare towards his grandson, rolling his eyes as he looked away. 

"Any man who must say 'I am the King' is no king at all. I shall not repeat myself again," Tywin answered, making a motion to Cersei for her to take him away but the woman was frozen in place with an angry look on her face. She shook her head.

"Joff is right, father. She may be a Lannister in name, but she is not a Lannister," Cersei argued, sneering at Sansa as she did so.

"I will not listen to this anymore. She is carrying a future heir to our house. You will treat her as such," Tywin replied curtly, Cersei huffed.

"She is also right there," Tyrion added, apparently have woken from his nap. Sansa's eyes widened as everyone's eyes were suddenly on her. She gnawed on her bottom lip. Jaime looked away from her first.

"Now, are we free to leave? I believe my _wife_ is feeling a bit tired. Isn't that right, Sansa?" Jaime asked, looking back with feigned concerned. Sansa's eyes widened slightly. She nodded quickly, pretending to stifle a yawn. Tywin raised a brow.

"Very well, you may go," Tywin stated. Jaime nodded. Sansa clung to his arm as he guided them out. As soon as they stepped into the hall, they broke apart once more. Sansa looked at him with a worried expression, Jaime opened his mouth, but the door opened after them.

"Your grace," Sansa immediately greeted. Why did he have to follow them? Why did he have to make an already bad situation worse? The king smirked at his uncle and aunt. 

"I told you before, uncle. Everything is my business," Joffrey stated, before walking off, a smug expression on his face. Jaime shook his head.

"Twat," Jaime said, rolling his eyes. "Let's go, Sansa." 

Sansa nodded and followed Jaime as he took off in the opposite direction to Joffrey. Towards his rooms. Sansa thought as she walked. Her mind was racing with thoughts of the future, as it had been since she found out that she was...

She followed her husband dutifully, as she thought about her own family. Her mother had always been so excited when she was with child. She was always full of new joy. Sansa wondered what her mother would think of this. What her father would think of this. Pregnant with the Kingslayers babe. Sansa remembered when Catelyn announced Rickon. Sansa was so excited to have a babe to look after, even if she was only seven years old at the time. Somehow, Sansa did not think she was as excited this time. Although, it meant the power she was so desperately seeking, even if this was not the form she wanted said power. Pregnant with the heir to Casterly Rock, to the Westerlands. Perhaps even to the North, depending on what Tywin Lannister planned to do with her child. Her child. Such a foreign concept. Sansa wondered briefly on the gender. She wouldn't care, she would love it all the same. Even if it was half Lannister, it was half Stark too. The babe would be everything her family was. It would be fathers kind eyes. It would be mothers laugh. It would be Robb and Jon sparring in the yard, with Bran and Rickon trying to join in. It would even be Arya, how she would always try and annoy Sansa. Sansa would give anything to see those things again. She would give anything to be with her family. This babe. This babe would be her family. Her son, or her daughter. She would teach them how to be a Stark. She would make sure it was nothing like its fathers family.

Sansa took a breath as they arrived back to Jaime's room. He moved straight to the table that held the wine jug. He was doing more of that lately, drinking. She had never seen him drink as much as he had since they were married, but then again, she never really cared. She watched as he offered her a glass. She shook her head. Mother never drank wine during her pregnancies. Jaime shrugged and sipped the wine himself. 

"You know, Sansa. Yesterday, my biggest worry was whether you had heard something you were not supposed to, and now. Now it is how I am supposed to be a father alongside a mother who barely likes me," Jaime said plainly. Sansa froze. He always did this to her. He always put her in a box in which she could not leave easily.

"I do like you, my lord," Sansa replied, her eyes darting around the room before she eventually closed them.

"Yes, perhaps more so than my sister and nephew," Jaime replied, rolling his eyes. Sansa looked at him.

"Yes, more than them. You are my husband, after all," Sansa snapped back quickly. Jaime huffed. Sansa sat. She was tired of this.

"But you stopped wearing the necklace," Jaime pointed out. Sansa froze. 

"Yes, I did," She eventually replied. He shook his head.

"Why?"

Sansa paused, contemplating telling him the truth. Would he believe her? She debated the pros and cons of the truth before opening her mouth.

"Because I do not have it anymore," Sansa whispered. Jaime's head snapped toward her, his eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean? Where is it?" Jaime snapped. Understandably, it was his late mothers. She took a deep breath before speaking her next words.

"Your sister. The queen mother, she took it from me." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader Questions;
> 
> 1\. How do yous feel about Jaimsa's pregnancy?
> 
> 2\. Tywin finally stepped in. How'd you like that?
> 
> 3\. We finally know why Sansa's not wearing her necklace anymore. What do you think Jaime will do?
> 
> 4\. What do you want to see in future chapters?
> 
> 5\. Joffrey's wedding will be in following chapters. How do you think it'll go down?
> 
> Any comments or questions will be appreciated.


	10. JAIME

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned, ya welcome. school holidays are coming up so I will be trying to post more frequently

**KINGS LANDING**

* * *

"Your sister, the queen mother. She took it from me," Sansa breathed. Jaime's head snapped towards her.

"She what? How do you know?" Jaime asked. He could feel the fury building up in his blood. 

"I saw her handmaiden sneaking out of my room," she whispered, pulling herself away from Jaime. Gods, the poor girl was probably afraid he would hit her. That his anger was with her. He looked at her once more before turning on his heel and throwing the door of his chambers open and stormed out. He heard Sansa calling out after him but he ignored her. He knew his wife would try to stop him, ever the problem denier. So he walked away, a few chambers down from his own. If she wasn't in there, he didn't know where else she could be. He pushed the door open, looking around quickly before deducting that she was not there. So he turned on a heel once more and stalked off in the direction of the tower of the hand. As much as Jaime hated his father sometimes, he would punish Cersei. Perhaps more than Jaime knew how to himself. He jumped up the stairs two at a time until he heard chattering by one of the doors. Of course, the small council chambers. He pushed his way inside.

"Lord Jaime, we weren't expecting you!" Mace Tyrell called, a stupid smile on his face. Of course, the big oaf thought he could get in their good graces. Jaime scanned the table until his eyes landed on her.

"Where is it Cersei?" He growled, glaring at her from across the table. She frowned at him.

"Perhaps this could wait until later brother? As you can see, we're in the middle of a small council meeting, something you are no longer a part of," Cersei requested, raising a brow.

"Yes, what is the meaning of this, Jaime?" Tywin asked, looking at Jaime with a cold look.

"Mothers necklace is missing," Jaime replied simply. Cersei laughed.

"Your wife has lost it? Why are you in here harassing me then?" Cersei smirked. Jaime glowered at her, but she stayed calm under his intense gaze. 

"She did not lose it Cersei, you and I both know-"

"Enough. Council is dismissed. We shall meet again tomorrow," Tywin interrupted. The members of the council looked somewhat relieved to be away, and they all scurried out as quickly as possible until only the Lannisters remained. 

"Stealing from a child sister? That's a new low," Tyrion quipped, looking toward Jaime with an eye roll

"Is it true, Cersei?" Tywin asked, getting straight to the point. Cersei looked at him with feigned surprise.

"It was not hers in the first place. It was mothers. Sansa Stark is not a Lannister," Cersei sniffed. 

"She is. She is married to Jaime and carrying his heir no less," Tywin snapped back, his tone still calmer than should be expected.

"Some would say she's more of a Lannister than you, she is the future lady after all," Tyrion added. Cersei glared at their younger brother.

"Cersei, I expect you to go get that pendant, now. Tyrion, I expect an answer by tomorrow morning," Tywin finally commanded. Cersei stood quickly from her seat, spun around, and stormed out of the chambers. Tyrion sighed slightly before sliding out of his own seat and followed Cersei out the door.

"Father, she stole from Sansa and you're letting her off with a warning? You know she hates Sansa," Jaime protested.

"You are not children Jaime, and in any case, I know what Cersei is capable of. I am not an imbecile, but whilst I am here, she holds little power."

"How do you plan on protecting Sansa from her then? What if she tries to poison her? With moontea perhaps?"

"We shall get a servant to taste it then."

"And what of Joffrey? If he tries to attack her again a-"

"This is the first time in your life I've heard you worry this much about someone or think ahead so much, Jaime. I shall take all the necessary precautions, you needn't worry," Tywin cut Jaime off as he spoke, and Jaime scoffed before turning away from his father and exiting the room. He could not handle his father's scrutiny any longer.

"Are you in love with that little whore, brother?" A voice sneered from behind him. He whirled around to see Cersei standing there, arms crossed across her chest. Jaime scoffed and grabbed her by the arm.

"No, Cersei. I'm just not in love with you any longer," Jaime replied, pulling her towards him as he began his descent down the stairs, his grip on Cersei still firm as he led her to her own chambers. Cersei tried to pull away as they reached the bottom of the staircase but Jaime's grip held strong before finally, they reached Cersei's chambers, he pushed her inside with his golden hand. 

"Jaime... What is the meaning of this?" Cersei hissed, pulling away from him, stumbling back into her chambers before regaining her footing and standing with her arms crossed, glaring.

"Get the pendant. Now," Jaime replied, looking at her with the exact same expression that she was looking at him.

"So you can disrespect our mother's memory and give it to the little wolf slut? I think not."

"She is not a slut Cersei, you know that. If anyone could be accused of that, it would be you."

"How dare you? We have been with one another for thirty-three years. You've been with her for less than three moon turns and you are in love?"

"I'm not in love with the girl Cersei. She is just that, a girl. But she has done nothing wrong to deserve the way that you and your son have treated her," Jaime finally yelled, slamming his golden fist into the wall. Violence was the way Jaime knew. He knew he could not beat Cersei in a battle of words.

"Get the pendant, I will not ask again," he growled. She turned around as if she was to walk away, but then suddenly, there was a large ornamental object flying towards his head. He ducked, and a loud smashing sound came from behind him. 

"Did you just-"

"Get out," she whispered. Jaime stalked over to her and put his good hand against the throat, only to see something he hadn't noticed before. A golden chain leading down to the valley between her breasts. He shook his head in disbelief. How had he literally been so blind? He pulled it out of her dress. Mothers pendant. She smirked at him as he pulled it off of her neck.

"I have a child to protect now Cersei, I will not allow you to torment its mother," Jaime hissed, turning around and beginning to leave but before he could, Cersei's voice called out to him.

"What about our children? Do you put this child over our own? We made ours in love, you made yours out of duty. Which is more important to you?" 

"They are not my children, I'm their uncle, that is all I will ever be to them but this one is my own. Leave Sansa be, Cersei," Jaime finally sighed, walking out of the chambers and closing the door behind him, the sounds of rage induced screams and ornamental objects crashing against the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Jaime paced in front of Sansa's door, a gold and ruby pendant dangling loosely between his fingers. He finally stopped and faced the door. He took a deep breath, and raised his hand, knocking on the dark wood. He heard the chattering inside cease and footsteps come daintily towards the door. It cracked open, revealing the Braavosi woman standing before him with a curious eye.

"Who is it, Shae?" Sansa's voice called from within. Shae opened the door wider.

"Your husband, my lady," Shae replied moving aside. When he looking within the chambers, he saw Sansa and Tyrion sitting at a table talking. Tyrion looked up at him and stood. 

"I'll take that as my cue, good luck," Tyrion winked at Sansa, exiting the room, Shae looking between the two before doing the same, closing the door behind her.

"Why was Tyrion here?" Jaime asked. He had no qualms with it, he was simply curious. Last he knew, Sansa couldn't stand the thought or sight of any Lannisters, even him and they were married!

"He visited me to tell me how you confronted your sister at the small council meeting. I remember that you said I could trust Lord Tyrion, he has been nothing but kind to me, just like you," Sansa said shyly, biting her lip slightly and standing up. Jaime smiled genuinely. Something he had said to her was sinking through. His kindness towards her was paying off. He was knocking down the walls that she had built around herself to protect herself from those wanting to harm her.

"I hope you and Tyrion can be friends. He is the funniest man you will ever meet, you could use some laughter in your life, Sansa," Jaime replied, her face flushed in response as she looked towards her feet.

"I got it back for you," Jaime added. Her head snapped back up in shock.

"Jaime, you didn't need-"

"I will not allow her nor Joffrey to torment you any longer. We are in this together, Sansa."

Suddenly her demeanour changed, she looked down, tears brewing in her eyes before she was sobbing. Jaime's eyes widened, why was she sobbing? He walked gently over to where she was standing and pulled her into his arms. She buried her face into his shirt. 

"What's wrong, Sansa?" Jaime whispered. He hadn't had much experience with sobbing girls, he had tended to avoid such things. 

"What- What if they harm the babe? I can barely protect myself, Jaime. This babe is the only family I have now," Sansa hiccupped into him, and Jaime's heart almost shattered. He knew she was afraid, but it wasn't even for herself, it was for their child. A child she had only known about for a day. One of the only shows of complete vulnerability that she had shown to him.  Jaime pulled away, causing the girl to look at him with her wide blue eyes.

"I will protect you, always. Brienne of Tarth, she swore herself to your mother, she will protect you when I cannot. I will not allow you to be hurt ever again, I swear it."

"I don't want to-" She trailed off, looking down, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her gown.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be-"

"Do not ever apologise for this, I will not hear it. Do you understand?" Jaime cut her off this time, not allowing her to finish her apology. She sighed slightly, before looking up at him and nodded. Jaime looked up slightly, noticing the setting sun through the window. 

"Come, go to bed Sansa. It has been a long day," Jaime sighed. She nodded and moved to walk to her bed but she turned back towards him, looking as though she was second-guessing herself.

"Will you... Will you stay with me? I don't wish to be alone..."

Jaime's eyes widened, she wanted him to stay with her? Despite his apprehension, he found himself nodding and walking towards her, and together, somewhat awkwardly, the got into the bed and laid beside one another before eventually drifting off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READER QUESTIONS:
> 
> 1\. favourite moment of this chapter? 
> 
> 2\. character interactions you want to see more?
> 
> 3\. Pete and his friend dontos will be appearing shortly... What do you think will change from canon? What do you reckon Sansa will do?
> 
> 4\. I want Sansa and Tyrion to be friends. Thoughts?
> 
> 5\. I'm thinking of making a social media to update all of yous about the progress/ when I'll update. Who would follow that account and what social media would you want it on?
> 
> Any other comments and kudos are very much appreciated by this lonely soul


	11. SANSA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANNOUNCEMENT:  
> hey guys, I've now got a Tumblr account under the username 'wxntxrchxld' for updates etc, etc.  
> So please chuck it a follow and don't be shy to message me!

**KINGS LANDING**

* * *

 

Sansa walked towards the small Godswood, making her way through the holdfast on her way to the gardens. As she walked, she remembered where she had woken up that morning. With Jaime's arms around her, holding her so closely that she could barely breathe, his bare chest pressing against her covered back, her body filled with a warmth she had not felt in many moons. She had quite liked that feeling, of being held in a way that was comforting and not at all possessive, and she had tried her best not to move, to stay in this feeling free of the awkwardness that was such a common theme between the two. When he stirred, she had closed her eyes in panic, not knowing what to do but not wanting the warmth to end. When he woke, he stiffened, Sansa felt him stiffen before relaxing again and laying there for a while. Neither of them wanting to move, and Sansa wondering why he stayed. As Sansa drifted peacefully through the keep, she bumped into someone, bringing her out of her daze. 

"My apologies, my...Your Grace," Sansa stumbled, looking up to see who she had run into. He grinned wickedly at her. 

"Lady Sansa, just the person I wanted to see," Joffrey laughed. Sansa stiffened. She did not want her good feeling to end. Not with Joffrey. She had to tell Jaime, he wanted her to tell him.

"You wanted to see me, your grace?" Sansa asked instead, feigning confusion. He couldn't hurt her anymore. She had protection. From Jaime, from this unknown woman knight, from Tywin Lannister. He couldn't hurt her, he couldn't hurt her, he couldn't hurt her. 

"Yes. Oh, don't you know lady Sansa? Your mother and brother are dead," Joffrey cackled. Sansa froze, what did he mean? 

"What?" Sansa whispered. Joffrey smirked at her.

"Oh yes, at a wedding nonetheless. I hear that your traitor brother was filled with arrows before they chopped off his head and replaced it with that mutt he called a pet. And your bitch of a mother? They cut her throat to the bone and threw her in a river," Joffrey grinned. Sansa felt paralysed, the images of what Joffrey was describing filled her mind. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Her mother, her brother, they were dead. Brutally murdered at a wedding. She felt her eyes filling with tears. She began sinking down against the wall but Joffrey gripped her arm tightly, pulling her up.

"Oh, I forgot the best part, Lady Sansa. Your brother's wife was pregnant, and they stabbed her in the belly so many times it would have been impossible for either of them to survive. Perhaps I'll do the same to you."

Joffrey released her arm on those words causing her to fall against the wall. She closed her eyes as she heard his footsteps leaving her in her solitude. Her family was dead. She had nobody left. Her father was decapitated, her mother's throat slit, her eldest brother full of arrows, her sister probably dead, and her two youngest brothers burned alive. She was the only Stark left, she was alone.  Her child would never get to meet her family. Gods, she had a child with the man whose family killed hers. Gods, what if Jaime helped? She let him into her bed. She was happy with him this morning! Sansa's brain was whirling, but then, her complete sadness took over her mind and she was numb once more, completely unfeeling, unaware of her surroundings. So much so that she didn't hear anyone approaching her, she felt a slight change on her arm, as if someone was shaking her. She opened her eyes and yet she still couldn't see. Why could she not be left alone?

"Sansa? Sansa? What's wrong? Sansa?" she heard a panicked voice call to her, but it sounded a million leagues away. She faintly heard a sigh before feeling herself move but she no longer cared. If it was not for this babe she would leap off of a tower. Instead of resisting whoever seemed to be holding her she closed her eyes once more, and then, she was asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

When Sansa awoke, she heard voices. She stayed silent, waiting for them to finish. She didn't want to be around anyone, after all, but then Sansa tuned in to their conversation.

"What did you call for me for, Jaime? I'm a busy man. I cannot stand watching you pace angrily for hours on end," A deep voice said. Was that Tywin? Sansa closed her eyes. That man was responsible for her families slaughter, she was sure of it.

"The Starks. What did you do?" Jaime growled, there was a short silence before he spoke again, "Don't worry, she's asleep"

Did this mean he didn't know? Did this mean he had nothing to do with her families murder?

"What had to be done, Jaime. The Freys and the Boltons did more than I, I simply rewarded them for it," Tywin replied. Sansa held in a sob. The Boltons were her brother's bannerman. They were sworn to the Starks for hundreds of years.

"Did you think that Joffrey wouldn't torment Sansa for it? I feel as though I have just gotten her to trust me and now... I am part of the family that slaughtered hers."

"You always were. I am not here to cater to one girl's wants and needs. I am here to win a war, and now there is one less enemy to deal with."

"Do you not understand the repercussions of what you have done? Sansa is fragile. I spoke with the maester not long ago, he told her to keep her away from stress. It can impact the babe. Your legacy is at stake because you made a selfish decision!" Jaime cried. Sansa licked her lips. The babe could be impacted by her stress and worry? No, Sansa thought, she would not let it. This babe was the only family she had left apart from Jon. She didn't care if this babe was born a Lannister. It would be raised as she was, a Stark.

"Then you will simply put another in her. Joffrey's wedding is in seven days, you can both leave after that, familiarise yourself with Casterly Rock."

"Tyrion's coming with us."

"Excuse me?"

"Sansa trusts him to some extent, and Tyrion knows more about Casterly Rock than I. I want him to help me," Jaime instructed. There was a long silence. 

"Fine. But I will send him there early, in two days time. He must find a suitable bride by the time your wife delivers or he will marry the girl of my choosing."

There was another silence and then the door slammed and Sansa heard Jaime sigh. Tywin must have left, and with him, he took her anger. Suddenly, she was eerily emotionless. She sat up.

"So it's true?" she called, her voice was hoarse from crying. Jaime looked at her, surprise etched onto his features. He sighed deeply.

"I'm afraid so," Jaime sighed. Sansa closed her eyes briefly before opening them again, looking right at the man who was trying to avoid her line of sight. 

"Thank you," she whispered. His head snapped up, and she could understand why he was confused. 

"For what?"

"Since I've been here, I've been beaten and mistreated. I've been used and abused and publically humiliated. I was forced to watch my father's head leave his shoulders. I lost my sister because she was clever enough to escape and she is now probably dead. I lost my two youngest brothers to someone whom I considered a brother, and now I've lost my mother and Robb, and my little niece or nephew who I will now never know. Since I came to Kings Landing I have lost everything, but now, thanks to you, I have this. This child growing inside of me who can avenge the lost Starks. The heir to the most powerful seat in Westeros behind the crown. I will raise it to know what I have lost, what its fathers family took from me. Thanks to you, I have a chance to get back my will to live."

And with that, Sansa pushed herself off of the bed that Jaime had put her in and left the room. Seeking comfort in her own chambers, she closed her eyes and drifted off to a place in which her family was all around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter.. but Sorry about this :):  
> Also, don't forget to follow my Tumblr account under the username 'wxntxrchxld'


	12. SANSA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget that I've now got a Tumblr account under the username 'wxntxrchxld' for updates etc, etc.  
> So please chuck it a follow and don't be shy to message me!

**KINGS LANDING**

* * *

 

Sansa walked towards the Godswood, beginning her day as she had days before, only not as content with her life. After her conversation with Jaime, after overhearing his conversation with Tywin, she was tired of being hounded. Everyone was constantly asking her questions, constantly telling her what to think, what do do, how to behave. Everyone was trying to get in Sansa Starks good graces- sorry, Sansa Lannisters good graces. Formerly the daughter of a traitorous family, being disrespected and used, now to being the future lady of the greatest house in Westeros. They thought she didn't hear. She knew. They thought they were so clever, whispering about how her brothers head was replaced with Greywinds. They thought she didn't know. But she was a Stark, not a Lannister. She was a wolf, not a lion. The sheep would pay. 

Sansa reached the tree and fell to her knees. She looked up at the smokeberry vine-covered great oak. It was nothing like the heart tree at Winterfell. Nothing like home. Yet, it bought her some small amount of solace, knowing that the Old Gods could feel her presence here. Could feel her pain, her heartbreak. She leaned further to the ground. What kind of Gods would allow her to feel such pain? What kind of Gods would let her family be slaughtered? Cruel ones. But yet, she began her prayer.

_Old Gods, I'm sorry._

_I'm sorry that I abandoned you for all that time._

_Perhaps my families death was my punishment, for losing faith._

_But do I deserve this? I am alone. I would do anything to see them again._

_Anything to tell father that I'm sorry. That I'm sorry I told Cersei we were leaving._

_Anything to tell mother that I was wrong. The south was cruel and horrid. I should have stayed home_

_Anything to tell Robb that I'm sorry. That I am so sorry for always telling him that he is stupid when he wasn't._

_Anything to see the boys grow to be whomever they wished to be. To tell Arya I was wrong to treat her how I did._

_Anything to see Jon, and tell him I love him. That I am sorry for calling him a bastard and treating him differently from the rest._

_Please, if you can hear me. If you can hear my prayers, let me see them again. Strike me down where I stand. Or bring those left back to me. Please._

Before Sansa could finish her prayers, she heard a rustling noise. Her head snapped up, and she stumbled to her feet. No-one ever came here, nobody but her. This was her space. She heard the noise again and whirled around to face it. She felt her breathing become heavier. She closed her eyes briefly, before turning towards the exit. She had to leave, but as soon as she started leaving, a figure blocked her path. 

"Lady Sansa, how funny, running into you here," the man said. Sansa licked her lips as the figure came closer until she finally recognised it.

"Lord Baelish. I was just leaving," Sansa replied, going to move away from the man. He was slippery. She knew her father didn't trust him.

"So soon? My apologies if I interrupted your prayers, but I had a proposition for you," Littlefinger smiled. Sansa took a deep breath. She saw the way he looked at her

"I thought you were meant to be in the Vale, with my aunt Lysa and cousin. I didn't know you had returned to Kings Landing," Sansa said instead. Baelish smirked.

"I'm only here for you, Lady Sansa. I heard about your marriage to Lord Jaime. Then I heard about your pregnancy. Your aunt and I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, as you know I was dear friends with your mother before her untimely death. I know she would want you to be with your family again."

Sansa sucked in a breath. What was he talking about? Was he offering a way out of this hell?

"Lord Baelish-"

"Petyr. Call me Petyr, Sansa," he replied, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Her breath hitched. His hungry looks were becoming not just looks.

"Petyr, I don't know what to say. I can't-"

"Lady Sansa?" A voice called. Who was that? Petyr must have had the same thought because he looked at her, kissed her hand and whispered once more to her.

"There will be a package waiting for you. Wear it, I promise I'll protect you."

Then he was gone, as soon as he appeared, he had left but someone was soon in his place. 

"Lady Sansa, there you are. Lord Jaime wanted you to come to say goodbye to Lord Tyrion, he leaves for Casterly Rock today," Brienne told her softly. Sansa had met her the day prior. The woman had been following her ever since. She was lucky enough to escape her this morning to come here. 

"He was meant to leave two days ago. I thought he was staying for the wedding after all," Sansa replied dryly, as she began walking with Brienne close behind her. 

"He was going too, but Lord Jaime insisted he leave before the wedding, he said arrangments must be made before you arrived there."

Sansa rolled her eyes, knowing Brienne couldn't see. She frowned. She hadn't spoken to Tyrion since before she found out about her family. She didn't want too. He was a Lannister, no matter how friendly he had been to her. Jaime was a Lannister too though. They had both been kind to her, for what? For her trust? So she would let one into her bed? So she wouldn't fight them with any force she could muster? She was tired. Tired of playing the Game of Thrones. She just wanted her family, her home. 

Suddenly, Sansa had a thought. Perhaps... Perhaps she could use Jaime's guilt to her advantage. Perhaps she could write to Jon, really write to Jon and ask him for advice. For some sort of solace. Maybe one day, she could ask Jaime to take her home. once she had given him an heir and outlived her usefulness, perhaps she could go home... But of course, that would never happen. Tywin would never let that happen. She let out a silent sigh as she approached the gates, where the Lannisters were all standing. She silently took her place next to Jaime, waiting patiently for Tyrion to make his way down the line. He was currently saying his farewells to Tommen, with Cersei trying to pry her crying son away from the little man. His father was next, the two exchanged a few heated words and a curt nod from the elder man. Finally, he came to her and Jaime. 

"Keep out of trouble whilst we're here," Jaime jested, smiling at his brother. Tyrion snorted.

"Like I need to be told that, that's more your speciality," Tyrion retorted, a grin on his face. Jaime laughed. 

"I'll see you soon, brother," Jaime finally said. Tyrion nodded and looked towards Sansa, taking a few steps towards her. Jaime turned away, moving to speak to his father.

"Sansa. I know you probably blame us all for what happened but Jaime and I had nothing to do with it. Why would either of us break what little trust you had for us in the beginning?" Tyrion asked softly. Sansa went stiff. She knew that what he said made a small amount of sense. But, Joffrey and Cersei had always blamed her for her families apparent crimes, why couldn't she do the same. She looked at him with a ghost of a smile.

"Have a safe journey, Lord Tyrion. I shall see you in a few weeks," Sansa replied instead. Tyrion gave her a disappointed smile, before taking her hand and placing a gentle kiss there. Sansa resisted the urge to yank her hand out of his grasp but didn't act upon it. He looked at her once more before walking to the horse awaiting him. He waved once, before taking off with his squire, Podrick, and sellsword, Bronn and a handful of other guards. Cersei and Tywin quickly made their leave, and Sansa only then noticed that Joffrey had not even bothered to come. She huffed, before turning in an attempt to leave. She made it as far as her chambers, opening the door and closing it quickly before anyone could follow her. And at that moment, she saw something laying on her bed. A package. Is this what Littlefinger was talking about? 

She looked around, making sure her chambers were empty before walking carefully over to it. It was small, wrapped neatly. She reached her hand out, picking the small object up. It was light. Not heavy at all. She took a deep breath and began unwrapping it, finally, she saw it. She pulled it out of the packaging and held it up into the light. A beautiful amethyst crystal necklace. Her breath hitched in her throat as she admired it.

"Sansa?" A voice called, startling Sansa and her hand released what she was holding, the necklace smashing onto the ground, one of the crystals breaking. She spun around with wide eyes.

"Jaime, you-"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you-"

"I dropped the necklace-"

"What is that?" Jaime finally said. Sansa cocked her head slightly.

"Someone left me a package on my bed and-"

"No, Sansa. I mean, there's a purple liquid coming from your necklace!" Jaime yelled. Sansa looked down, he was right. Something was coming out of it. He walked over quickly, snatching the necklace up before she had a chance too. He smashed another crystal, causing Sansa to gasp. What was he doing? He smashed every crystal under his feet, they were hollow. Not real crystals at all, Sansa realised. 

"Poison. Someone's given you poison, Sansa. Who gave you this?" Jaime growled. Sansa shook her head. What was she meant to say? Petyr Baelish told her that he left her something, told her to wear it? She felt tears welling in her eyes. She didn't know what to do. Jaime's face was red.

"We're leaving. Someones tried to kill you, Sansa. We're leaving tomorrow, I don't care what father says. We're leaving," Jaime yelled, walking out of the room. Sansa saw a glimpse of him speaking to Brienne before the door slammed shut. Sansa felt the tears falling down her cheeks. Why would Littlefinger try to kill her? Surely it was meant for someone else...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader Questions:
> 
> 1\. I didn't really want to involve dontos considering the recent addition to Sansa's stomach. How do you think his mind is whirling?
> 
> 2\. Do you think Jaime will let her write to Jon? If so what do you think she'll say? What do you think he'll say?
> 
> 3\. How'd you think Tyrion's role in the Purple Wedding will play out now that he's gone?
> 
> 4\. Speaking of the purple wedding, the necklace is broken now. Will Olenna find another way to kill Joff?
> 
> 5\. How do you think Tywin will react to what Jaime thinks was his wife and heir being threatened?
> 
> 6\. Anything else you noticed?


	13. SANSA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay yikes, I haven't updated in 2 months and I wrote this chapter in a day!   
> I'm sorry about the time gap, I just was busy with Final Crown of Winter Roses!! (Which you should totally check out if you haven't already)  
> To make up for it, here's a long one!

**SANSA**

* * *

 

Sansa moved to the chair, as Shae had bid her, sighing as she did so. The large ornate dress she had been dressed in reminded her of a much simpler time. A time where she would have killed to wear something as lovely as this. She had been in a less ornate dress for the family breakfast that morning, giving Joffrey gifts and praise was something she had expected, but it had annoyed her all the same. There was, of course, something that had hurt her greatly at that breakfast. Widow’s Wail. A longsword made from Ice. Her father’s sword was now in the hands of  Joffrey. The most undeserving person on the entire continent of Westeros for such a weapon, but it was not up to her. In theory, she supposed, it should have been her choice. After all, she was the last surviving child of Eddard and Catelyn Stark, giving her the control of House Starks heirlooms and devices. If only she could go back to Winterfell now… Build it up from the burned husk Theon Greyjoy left it as, take it back from the Boltons who were currently residing in it. That was the worst part of it, Sansa thought, the fact that they rewarded kingslaying, breaking guest right, murder, with a nice title and the largest castle in the North. Thought, Sansa supposed it was all up to speculation, she herself was married to a kingslayer, pregnant with the babe of a kingslayer. 

“Sansa? Is that okay?” Shae asked from her position at her hair, Sansa looked into the looking glass and nodded. Shae had done as she requested, and let most of her auburn hair hang loose, but pulling it away from her face with intricate braids. 

“The necklace,” Sansa instructed, the woman nodded and padded over to a table to get what she requested. The necklace, it was a horrible thing. It was beautiful but horrible. Only a few days past it had been since she opened her gift from Lord Baelish. He was a clever man, but Sansa doubted he expected Jaime to walk in. Apparently Lord Tywin had the same thought process, Tywin and Jaime had entered a screaming match about it, the former doing less yelling than the latter. Jaime wanted to leave Kings Landing at once, something he had always wished he later had confessed to her. Tywin had wanted her to leave the room once she had told him that she had no idea how the package got there nor who it was from, but Jaime insisted that she stay. 

“ _ She is family now, father. You made her so, and so you will treat her so! _ ” Jaime had yelled. It made her squirm to hear those words come from his mouth. She was family. From Stark to Lannister. She didn’t want to be. 

Tywin had put the finest jeweller in King's Landing to the task of replicating the necklace in time for the wedding. Everyone would be there, he had argued. They filled the last crystal with bitter liquid, what it was called, Sansa knew not, only that they made it the same colour as the poison that had filled the other. She winced as Shae placed the necklace around her throat.

_ The Strangler.  _ That’s what Pycelle had called it. He had brought a rat, to her chambers, forcing it to drink the liquid. The sight had been horrible, making her run to her chamberpot and upheave every ounce of food she had consumed for the day. She had blamed it on the babe, claiming sickness of the morn. Jaime had jumped right to Sansa’s defence, saying to Tywin that she had been sick like that at random points throughout the pregnancy. After that, she could not stop staring at it. 

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She sighed, moving to stand from her seat. Shae walked before her, opening the door. Of course, her husband had come to escort her to the wedding, it was only proper. 

“My lord,” she greeted with courtesy. Jaime raised a brow, shaking his head. Sansa did not miss the way his eyes darted to the jewels around her throat.

“I would much rather see you wearing my mother’s pendant,” Jaime replied. Sansa felt herself heat up. After all the effort he had gone through to retrieve it, and she could not even wear it. Once she would have been heartbroken, to not be able to wear something as beautiful as the late lady Joanna’s pendant, but now the only thing that made her want to wear it was Jaime, and even that was only sometimes. The man was much to her senior, and she knew if her parents were alive, or had a choice, she would have married a much younger man, but even so, he did not look his age. As much as Sansa hated to admit it, Jaime was handsome. She had barely spoken to him since she found out about her mother, and Robb and Talisa… but the last few days had caused that to change. 

“I would much rather be wearing it,” she finally admitted. He nodded in response. He held out his arm for her to take, which she did wearily. 

The Great Sept of Baelor looked just as grand as it had the last time she was in there, getting married herself. It sent shivers down her spine to hear the bells. Bells were never a good sign, the last time they had rung had meant death. They rang again now, as Mace Tyrell led Margaery down the aisle that had been formed. They stopped in front of the High Septon, Mace placing a peck on his daughter's cheek before handing her to Joffrey. That was a mistake, Sansa thought, he would never see his daughter this way again. The pair ascended the stairs so they were level with the septon, and she watched carefully as Joffrey cloaked his bride. He was claiming her in every way, stating that she was his property. The Septon wrapped the fabric around their joined hands loosely.

“Let it be known that Margaery of the house Tyrell and Joffrey of the houses Lannister and Baratheon, are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.”

Joffrey turned to his now-wife, “With this kiss, I pledge my love,” he declared, pulling the woman into a deep kiss. Sansa pitied the girl. She was his plaything now, yet still. They applauded as if a kiss was a great spectacle. She would have longed for the same opportunity a few years past, and now… Now she would rather leap off of the balcony joined to her rooms.

“We have a new queen,” Sansa remarked to her husband, who stood dutifully by her side, or perhaps, it was the other way around.

“Better her than you,” Jaime replied, his eyes fixed on his nephew. The move from the Sept to the feast was quick and uneventful, the actual feast, on the other hand, was loud, and rowdy. Nothing sat still. She sat on the high table beside her husband, making sure to place herself at the end. She watched everything, she had gotten good at watching.

“You look exquisite child, but the wind has been at you,” Olenna began, approaching the seat that Sansa was sat in. She felt Jaime’s eyes burning into her skull. The woman stroked her hair. 

“I haven’t had the opportunity to tell you how sorry I was to hear about your brother. War is war but killing a man at a wedding, horrid. What sort of monster would do such a thing? As if men need more reasons to fear marriage.”

“Thank you, my lady. But my brother was a traitor,” Sansa replied. The woman was famed for her quick wit and sharp tongue, but her words were honeyed.

“Perhaps after you’ve had your babe, your husband can bring you to Highgarden for a visit. Now that peace has come and all's right with the world, it would do you good to see some of it.” Sansa smiled at the woman shyly.

“Thank you for your kindness, Lady Olenna.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s time I ate some of this food I paid for,” Olenna finally said, moving away from her. Sansa smiled at her retreating figure. Highgarden had always appealed to her, even when she was a small child in the North, the famed beauty of Highgarden was always something she had wanted to admire.

“Do you want to visit Highgarden, Sansa?” Jaime asked curiously. Sansa bit her lip, turning to face her husband.

“I’ve always heard of its beauty and-”

“Very good, very good. Off you go,” Joffrey growled at the performers, interrupting both Sansa’s conversation with her husband and the performer's rendition of Rains of Castamere. It was a beautiful song, but Sansa hated it. She wondered if the singers would write a song about the ‘Red Wedding’ as the court had taken to calling it behind the backs of everyone else. A horrid name for a horrid event. Sansa grimaced as some coins flew from Joffrey’s hand, hitting the performers. The crowd laughed. They were cruel people. Sansa wanted nothing to do with them any more. She took no joy in their mishandling. Sansa pitied the performers, who were now scrambling to pick up the coin that Joffrey had thrown. As they scrambled off stage, Joffrey got to his feet, goblet in hand.

“Everyone! The  _ Queen  _ would like to say a few words.” 

The crowd clapped, applauding the king's words. They all just wanted to keep their heads, Sansa thought. As Joffrey sat, Margaery stood.

“We are so fortunate to enjoy this marvellous food and drink. Not all among us are so lucky. To thank the Gods for bringing the recent war to a just end, King Joffrey has decreed that the leftovers from our feast be given to the poorest in his city,” the Queen announced. The crowd applauded wildly. Kindness was her weapon, Sansa realised. Helping the poor and caring about everyone, that was her Valyrian steel. Sansa watched with interest as Cersei approached Brienne. The woman had sworn to protect her, but she had been given a break from such a thing for the wedding. She had dressed in blue, embroidered with the sigil of House Tarth. She looked a different kind of pretty in blue, it made her eyes shine. Sansa tried to imagine the woman in a dress but found she could not. She had no interest in being a lady, and once that would have bothered Sansa, but now she wished that she had taken to the sword, she could have avenged her family. 

“Sansa… Your necklace.” Jaime commented, Sansa looked down, he was right. A stone was missing. The stone with the concoction in it. 

“I… I didn’t notice,” She stammered. Jaime nodded toward her wine, she bowed her head in response and they both drank. Nothing bitter. 

“Not mine,” the whispered at the same time. The pair looked around. Nobody had been close to her today, except for Jaime and Lady Olenna, as well as Shae. None of them would wish to harm her. Sansa turned away from Jaime, turning towards Ser Dontos, who was currently juggling. She had subjected him to that fate, but it was this or his head. Sansa did not regret it. 

“A gold dragon to whoever knocks my fools hat off!” Joffrey called from the centre of the high table. As soon as he had said the words, food came flying from all sides, all aimed towards Dontos Hollard. He quickly ran off stage, and Jaime shook his head from beside her.  Joffrey stood once more.

“Everyone silence! Clear the floor. There’s been too much amusement here today. A royal wedding is not an amusement. A royal wedding is history, the time has come for all of us to contemplate our history. My lords, my ladies. I give you, King Joffrey!” He called. The beginning of the speech was serious, angry even, but toward the end, he got a sick grin on his face. Sansa watched on with worry, he was not known for his kindness, and somehow, his excitement for the main event worried her. His speech did not pause as she pondered.

“Renly! Stannis! Robb Stark!  And Balon Greyjoy! The war of the five kings!”

Sansa watched with horror as five dwarves dressed as their respective kings galloped out of an ornate giant lion figure mouth. She grimaced as she saw the dwarf dressed as Robb had a wolf head mask on his face. She felt Jaime’s hand slide into hers and squeeze it supportively, and the tears she was holding back disappeared. She had support, and it felt lovely for once. She squeezed back in acknowledgement, and they kept their hands together.

The actors galloped around for a few moments, shouting different campaign slogans. Every time she heard ‘King in the North’ she felt closer to tears, but she also felt Jaime’s hand in hers, and somehow that calmed her. Eventually, they formed a line, and the man who was playing Joffrey stepped out.

“Let the war begin!” he shouted with open arms. The crowd was laughing. If Robb was king, they wouldn’t be laughing. If he had won, they wouldn’t be. If she was a queen, they wouldn’t laugh. The one who played Renly Baratheon stepped out too, moving to fight the fake Stannis Baratheon. As they fought among themselves, Sansa watched ‘Robb’. He was attacking ‘Balon Greyjoy’. Winning. They were making a mockery of her brother. Of all the kings. Any of them had more claim than Joffrey, except maybe Balon. ‘Joffrey’ shot an arrow at ‘Stannis’, causing a green explosion of fabric. Wildfire, it was supposed to be. It didn’t look like it. Suddenly, ‘Joffrey’ and ‘Robb’ were jousting. After three passes, ‘Joffrey’ knocked ‘Robb’s’ head off. In a real fight, Joffrey would be the one headless, not Robb. She watched blankly as ‘Joffrey’ pretended to fuck the wolf mask that was knocked off. The real Joffrey was laughing, cackling. So much so that he spat out his wine. The dwarves lined up once more and took a bow, signifying the end of their performance. The crowd applauded. Sansa wished it was their heads on spikes in place of whatever ones were currently adorning the walls. 

“Well fought, well fought! Here you are, champions purse,” Joffrey began holding out a leather purse to ‘Joffrey’. He got a look on his face, Sansa knew that look. He was about to do something cruel.

“Though, you’re not the champion yet, are you? A true champion defeats all their challengers. Surely there are others out there who dare to challenge my reign? If only you hadn’t sent uncle Tyrion away, Uncle Jaime. Perhaps he would have been able to challenge me,” Joffrey called, turning his attention to Jaime. Sansa blinked, she had never seen Joffrey publicly embarrass Jaime.

“There was important business in Casterly Rock that he had to tend too before my wife and I got there ourselves,” Jaime replied, gritting his teeth, his hand tightened around hers.

“Well, how about you? A cripple and a dwarf would make an entertaining battle for my guests,” Joffrey replied, narrowing his eyes. Sansa bit her lip, watching as Jaime’s own face heated. He was getting angry, she could tell. She rubbed her thumb along the back of his hand. 

“I’m afraid Jaime’s fighting skills are reserved for the battlefield, Your Grace,” Tywin interrupted. There was a tense air throughout the yard, centred by the King and his Hand, the Lord of Casterly Rock. 

“It’s time for the pie, my love!” Margaery called, stretching her arm to rest on Joffrey’s upper arm. Joffrey nodded sourly as the pie was brought out almost at once. They sliced it open together, and white birds flew out and away into the sky, much to the delight of the simple guests. There were only a few that were watching along with the same expression that she and her husband wore. Two slices were placed in front of both her and Jaime and she realised that they were still joined at the hand. She bit her lip, he wasn’t pulling away, instead, his golden hand was resting at the table beside his plate of pie. She pulled her left hand from beneath the table, her right one still joined to her husband and fiddled with the pie. Jaime leaned over to her, his lips grazing her ear.

“Do you wish to retire?” he asked in a whisper. She licked her lips and nodded. He stood, pulling his hand from hers as he did. He ushered Sansa down the stairs when they were stopped.

“This pie is dry. Uncle Jaime, Lady Sansa, where do you think you’re going?” Joffrey asked, pulling the attention to her and Jaime. Jaime pulled her closer to him.

“My wife is tired, her current affliction making her so,” Jaime replied. The court did not know about her pregnancy. Only those who were directly related, or those who had spies everywhere, like Petyr Baelish. She briefly wondered what would have happened had he been here.

“No, no. You need to pour my wine. This pie is dry, I need something to wash it down.”

“You have cupbearers. My wife is tired. We’re leaving, your grace,” Jaime replied, Sansa looked at her husband in thanks, but pulled away from him. She reached where he was standing, reaching over to the pitcher on the table, and pouring it carefully into his goblet.

“I hope this is to your liking, your grace,” She called. Setting the pitcher down. He took a sip and spat it out. 

“This wine is shit, it tastes like a sourleaf. Pour me another,” Joffrey commanded. Sansa went frozen. The necklace. She looked to Jaime, and Lord Tywin who both made eye contact. 

“The Lady Sansa is tired, your grace. She is going to retire now,” Tywin said, he nodded to Joffrey. With a frown, Joffrey marched over to her, and pulled Sansa to him, his lips grazing over her ear. It left quite a different reaction than her husbands had only a few moments earlier.

“Once I’ve bedded my own wife, I’m going to visit your chambers and perhaps leave you with a bastard twin,” Joffrey sneered. Jaime pulled her away and the pair moved through the throngs of people and towards the Red Keep.

“I’m sorry about what the King said to you, Jaime,” Sansa mumbled. Jaime looked at her, and she saw something in him; something that reminded her of herself. She could see the pain in his eyes, but he shrugged. 

“This golden hand is something some men would kill to have, melt it down and sell it maybe. I would much sooner have my hand. Be able to fight. I fear that I’m quite useless without it,” Jaime confessed. Sansa blinked at him, shaking her head.

“I must disagree with you, my lord. Your hand does not define you. Your fighting does not define you-” she paused, taking a breath, “Neither does your family, I would know.”

Jaime looked at her with the same look he did the day of their betrothal; respect, but she saw the doubt there as well. He looked at the ground as he walked, “Your words are kind, but they have little effect. My sword hand was the only thing going for me. I don’t have the honour of your father. I don’t have the same intelligence as my own father or Tyrion in terms of all the politics of things. My only redeeming quality was my fighting skills, and even those were tarnished when I killed my king.”

“Why did you? Kill your king that is…?”

Jaime frowned, stopping in his tracks and taking a seat on a fountain in the gardens that they had just arrived at. The very fountain that she and Loras Tyrell had sat up several moons ago. She sat by his side, waiting for him to begin the story she could see brewing in his eyes.

“ The king loved to watch people burn, the way their skin blackened and blistered and melted off their bones excited him, he would always visit his wife afterwards, I asked one of my brothers once, when I heard her scream. I told him ‘We’re sworn to protect her as well,’ and he replied with ‘yes, but not from him.’ He was mad for as long as I served him. He burned lords he didn't like. He burned Hands who disobeyed him. He burned anyone who was against him. Before long, half the country was against him. Aerys saw traitors everywhere. So he had his pyromancer place caches of wildfire all over the city. Beneath the Sept of Baelor and the slums of Flea Bottom. Even beneath the Red Keep itself. Finally, the day of reckoning came. Robert Baratheon marched on the capital after his victory at the Trident, after killing Prince Rhaegar. But my father arrived first with the whole Lannister army at his back, promising to defend the city against the rebels. I knew my father better than that. He's never been one to pick the losing side. I told the Mad King as much. I urged him to surrender peacefully. But the king didn't listen to me. He didn't listen to Varys who tried to warn him. But he did listen to Grand Maester Pycelle, that grey, sunken cunt. ‘You can trust the Lannisters,’ he said. ‘The Lannisters have always been true friends of the crown.’ So we opened the gates and my father sacked the city. Once again, I came to the king, begging him to surrender. He told me to... bring him my father's head. Then he... turned to his pyromancer. ‘Burn them all,’ he said. ‘Burn them in their homes. Burn them in their beds.’ First, I killed the pyromancer, and then when the king turned to flee, I drove my sword into his back. ‘Burn them all,’ he kept saying. ‘Burn them all.’ I don't think he expected to die. He- he meant to... burn with the rest of us and rise again, reborn as a dragon to turn his enemies to ash. I slit his throat to make sure that didn't happen. That's where your father found me, sitting on the Iron Throne, my king's dead body beneath me.”

“Do you regret it?” Sansa whispered. She felt tears in her own eyes as he finished his story, not to mention the pain in his. She noticed the way he winced when he mentioned Queen Rhaella. He loved her, she realised. Jaime looked up at her.

“No, but I was a boy still. They judged me as soon as they saw me, your father included. I saved half a million people, and I got the name ‘Kingslayer’ and judgement from every lord and lady who thinks they’re better than me,” Jaime replied. Sansa moved closer to him, taking his golden hand in her own.

“This doesn’t make you. What you did, saving those innocent people, wanting to protect your queen, that’s your redeeming quality. One of many,” Sansa insisted. Jaime sighed, standing, pulling Sansa up with him, as they began walking into the keep. 

“You know your courtesies, Sansa,” Jaime simply replied, Sansa looked at the golden hand still being held by her own, she shook her head and smiled with a soft grin. She looked at the setting sun through an open window.

“I would like you to stay with me tonight if it pleases you. I don’t wish to be alone after that story and I don’t think you do either,” Sansa said suddenly. Jaime looked at her skeptically. 

“Are you sure?” Jaime questioned as they entered Maegor’s Holdfast. Sansa nodded. The man was being open with her. She was still wounded from the revelation about her family, but this was her family now. There was no way out of it, she could not stay stuck in the past. 

“I’m sure. Mayhaps we can speak about names for the child,” Sansa replied. In truth, she wanted to honour her own family, but there might be a way to honour those Jaime loved too. As long as the child knew their legacy.

“I know it wasn’t something you wanted, you should choose them.” Jaime pulled her into their shared chambers as he spoke, his head drooping slightly. He was thoughtful, much more thoughtful than Sansa had ever expected.

“Mayhaps… We could talk more about each other’s lives then? We have not spent much of our marriage speaking meaningful words,” Sansa admitted, pouring some water into the goblet in place of wine, but pouring wine into another for Jaime. She handed it to him, he took it gratefully. 

“Okay, then tell me about you, Lady Sansa. What was life in Winterfell like before you got to this shithole?” 

Sansa hummed, closing her eyes for a brief moment as she remembered, “I never liked Winterfell much when I lived there, but now I appreciate the walls. It was always warm, and safe. I always felt safe in Winterfell. From the time I could walk, I followed my mother around. Watching her do her duties, I usually got bored of that though, and went to go sing or dance for someone, or sew. I was always good at my needlework. My septa loved me, my sister not so much,” Sansa laughed at the memory, a small Sansa and Arya appearing in her mind as she thought of the younger girl.

“Did you get along with your sister? I remember that she was a little menace. I laughed when I saw what she had done to Joffrey.”

“No, not at all. What she did to Joffrey… That was her wolf, Nymeria mostly. I should have chased Lady off like she did Nymeria, but I was too in love with the King, I didn’t realise that family comes first,” she dropped her voice to a whisper, unknowing as to why she was sharing these thoughts from the depths of her mind with her husband. 

“I’m sorry about your wolf. Cersei was wrong to do that to you.” Sansa simply nodded at his words, wringing her hands.

“What about you? What was it like  growing up in Casterly Rock?” She asked, changing the subject back to her husband. Jaime smiled, yet grief was all over his features.

“Casterly Rock was always an adventure. My grandfather had lions in the depths of the Rock, they were in cages and after he died, they lived. I spent much of my time before they died trying to pet one-” Jaime paused to laugh, Sansa smiling at his tale, “My mother always chastised me for it, I don’t have much memory of my mother, only that she was beautiful and kind. She was funny, clever, and witty too, I believe that is where Tyrion gets it, and that makes father hate him all the more.”

“Do you still grieve for your mother, even after all this time?” 

“I do, I try not to think of her. I don’t think she would approve of my life choices, I’m afraid.”

“I’m sure that’s not right. If she was kind and intelligent, she would have wanted you to save people. That’s what you did.”

“Do you regret anything, Sansa?” Jaime asked, quite suddenly. Sansa blinked, she thought for a moment. It was a time of honesty, but Sansa didn’t know how honest to be. So she simply replied, “Leaving Winterfell, thinking I was better than my sister. Do you?”

“Not saving my Queen.” Sansa frowned.

“Queen Rhaella?” She questioned. Jaime nodded, prompting her to continue.

“Did you love her?” He looked startled at her question, cocking his head slightly, he nodded again.

“Some, she was my Queen, and I wanted to save her. But she’s dead now, just like my mother, and your family too. We’re survivors, Sansa. We will survive this,” Jaime replied, just as though he knew her thoughts. Jaime sighed, as she looked down.

“I believe I actually am tired now, Jaime. Can we retire?” she asked, motioning to the bed. He nodded. She looked down at her gown. It was laced at the back, and she wanted to take off her corset. 

“Jaime, can you-” She faltered, as he turned to her, she eyed his golden hand, “Can you unlace my gown so I may change into my nightgown?”

Jaime moved over to her. She turned her back to him, she felt her dress loosen quite a lot before he stopped abruptly. 

“Laces are the curses of cripples, and there is only so much I can do with one hand, I’m afraid,” Jaime jested humorlessly. Sansa turned to him once more.

“You are not a cripple, and in any case, you’re more than that. I can change from here, I’ll meet you in bed.”

Jaime nodded, turning to the bed as she walked behind the privacy screen placed in their chambers. She fumbled around some before eventually slipping into the nightgown that was in the chest Shae had moved there for her, she always knew, that woman. Sansa quickly moved toward the bed, slipping in beside Jaime. 

“Perhaps if it’s a girl we can name her Joalyn, or Rhaelyn might work better, combine the names of those we love for another that we will love,” Sansa suggested as she pulled the sheets up to her chin. Jaime smiled.

“If it’s a boy?” Jaime asked, his breath was warm on her bare shoulders. Sansa thought for a moment.

“I’m not sure, what do you think?” she asked. In truth, she wished to honour her family, but first, she wanted to see what her husband was thinking.

“Something to start anew. Lann the Clever started my House, and Brandon the Builder started yours, perhaps we can join them... Landon? ” Jaime grinned. Sansa smiled, she liked this man, she decided. She trusted him.

“We can discuss it later, we must rest if we wish to leave for Casterly Rock in the following days.” Jaime nodded and closed his eyes, she looked at him for a moment. He didn’t look his age, he really was quite handsome, but the more she looked, she could see the wear from his time here. She sighed quietly as she heard him begin to snore quietly, and she turned around so her back was to him and closed her eyes, she was close to sleep when she felt his arm wrap around her. She felt safe, in that moment. From then, it did not take her long to fall into a slumber

“Lady Sansa, Lord Jaime!” A voice called, Sansa blinked, opening her eyes slowly, the light making her vision blurry. She felt Jaime stirring beside her. She yawned.

“What is it, Shae?” She asked tiredly. Shae bit her lip.

“The king is dead, a spear through the heart the servants said,” she replied. Sansa jumped up, feeling her husband do the same from behind her until the pair were standing in their nightclothes facing her handmaiden. Could it really be? Could Joffrey really be gone?

“Who killed him?” Jaime growled. Shae sighed.

“Apparently? The Prince of Dorne.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments!


	14. THE KING IS DEAD

###  **JAMIE**

* * *

Jaime awoke, slowly but surely to the sound of his brother’s whores accented voice. He opened his eyes in time to see his wife push herself up a small bit.

“What is it, Shae?” She asked tiredly, Jaime began to roll over before he heard the reply.

“The king is dead, a spear through the heart the servants said,” she returned. Jaime froze. Joffrey was dead? His son… His first child, his nephew by name. He was a cruel child, but Jaime didn’t think he’d die. He thought back to the wedding, ‘ _ This wine is shit, it tastes like a sour leaf’,  _ he had spat. That’s what Tywin had commanded Pycelle to put into a dissolving crystal, as well as some crushed blueberries to make it the same purple colour.

“Who killed him?” Jaime growled. He could feel his blood boiling. First Sansa, and now, Joffrey. Shae sighed in response, “Apparently? The Prince of Dorne.”

“Oberyn Martell?” The woman nodded as a response.

“Shae, leave us,” Sansa commanded, the woman obliged, quickly turning and leaving the room.

“Breathe, Jaime,” she whispered, pushing Jaime onto the bed gently so he was sitting, his fist was clenched tightly.

“He killed my-” he stopped, aware of the truth he had nearly just spilt. 

“Your son,” Sansa offered. Jaime blinked at her. She had heard, Gods she had heard. He had known it in the depths of his being. He frowned, and she bit her lip, facing him, “I don’t care, as long as you’ve stopped. You talk in your sleep sometimes, I’ve heard you telling Cersei no, telling her that you’ve got your own family coming.”

“Sansa, I-”

She held up her hand to silence him, closing her eyes briefly before opening them once more, “Your son, nephew, whatever you wish to call him. He’s dead now, and as his grieving family, we must look the part, but that does not mean being angry.”

“He said the wine tasted of a sourleaf, someone tried to poison him, and I did nothing, how am I meant to protect the child within you if I can’t protect the ones I’ve already got,” Jaime replied softly, Sansa nodded in understanding, though she was frowning.

“He wasn’t truly your son, you could never claim him. Just as you can never claim Tommen or Myrcella. But this,” she paused to unclench his hand and place it on the small swell on her stomach, “Whether it is Rhaelyn or Landon, they will be yours, and mine. I know better than anyone about losing family, and having to feign how you actually feel.”

Jaime’s frown disappeared at the contact with Sansa’s stomach. She was right, after all. This child was his chance at redemption; and hers. This child was a chance to make up for all the mistakes he had ever made. Including Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen. 

“In truth, I’ve never thought of him as my child. Not like I did Tommen or Myrcella. They are what he isn’t-wasn’t. Kind, and sweet, and not at all cruel, but even they were never mine,” Jaime confessed. Sansa nodded in understanding once more, as if she knew exactly what he was feeling. In truth, he knew she had no idea what he was feeling, the whirlwind of emotions within him was strong, though he was still vulnerable from the night previous. He didn’t quite know what to feel, especially not at that moment. He should have been devastated, he knew, not as angry as he felt.

“Do you believe that Prince Oberyn did it because of his sister?” Sansa whispered, moving closer to him, resting her head delicately on his shoulder. Jaime frowned at the question but internally smiled at the contact. In truth, he didn’t know what to think. He had had limited interaction with the Dornish prince. It was too painful to remember Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon. Was it bad that he had had more of an internal reaction when they died rather than when his son, his own flesh and blood, borne of his own seed and from the womb of his twin, was murdered under his guard? Was it horrible that he felt more pain and grief instantly when he had heard Queen Rhaella had died? Was it appalling that he felt more allegiance to Rhaegar, Rhaella, and Elia than he ever had to Robert or Joffrey, his own flesh and blood?

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out,” Jaime replied quietly, standing from the bed. He had to get ready.

It didn’t take him or Sansa long to dress in black, the colour of grief. A dreadful colour, in his opinion. Together, they had exited their rooms, only to find that the castle was in chaos. No sooner had they left the safety of their chambers, was Jaime found face to face with Meryn Trant.

“The Queen requests your presence,” his eyes darted to Sansa, “Alone.”

 “Where?” Jaime asked, Sansa’s arm was joined to his own, and Trant barely had time to reply with the location before he took off with her in tow, speeding her pace to come to him. He dragged her up the tower steps.

“Jaime, she said alone,” Sansa whispered, as they arrived at the door. An empty door, The King had just been murdered, and they were leaving the Hand and the Queen Mother undefended. Jaime was fuming. 

“I don’t care,” he replied, pushing the door open with his good hand. As soon as he had, he heard a relieved cry.

“Jaime!” A few beats of silence passed before Cersei continued, “Lady Sansa. I wasn’t aware you would be here.”

“My husband required my presence, your grace,” Sansa quickly replied.

“Joffrey is dead, murdered by Oberyn Martell, but I see you already know that,” Tywin cut into the tension with his words, moving to face Jaime and Sansa and gesturing to their clothes. He didn’t care about Sansa’s being here anymore, evidently. After the debacle with the necklace, it was clear that he no longer sought to pick a fight with Jaime about his young bride.

“We were told this morning. Who found the body?” Jaime asked. Tywin shook his head, about to speak but Cersei beat him to it.

“The Tyrell whore, her scream woke the castle. Obviously, you didn’t hear it. She claims that they consummated the marriage and then went to sleep, yet when she awoke, he was dead beside her with a spear in the heart.”

“That ‘Tyrell Whore’ is the Queen, the maester is checking about the consummation now. If she wasn’t lying, she is a widowed Queen until she remarries. It might be that she was impregnated by Joffrey before he died. It would be foolish of us to not consider that possibility,” Tywin informed Jaime. Jaime frowned, he could tell that both Tywin and Cersei were unhappy about it.

“Before he was murdered!” Cersei cried. 

“Could she marry Tommen? That way the throne stays on the Baratheon line rather than the Tyrell,” Sansa suggested. Three pairs of green eyes stared at her in surprise. Jaime frowned, Sansa was speaking up… In front of Cersei and Tywin. Even though she knew his and Cersei’s secret, she had still said Baratheon. She was clever, more clever than they gave her credit for.

“She could, the proper mourning period would be 6 moons but it would save any issues arising and keep the alliance,” Tywin replied, a look of respect adorned his features. Jaime was in shock.

“No! They already had my first boy! I will not let them have another! I forbid it!” Cersei cried once more, yet everyone else in the room was ignoring her.

“So wait the 6 moons, as Hand, you have the most power right now. It is your decision, I am simply suggesting this. I had befriended the Tyrell’s. They are ambitious. If you tell them that Margaery can wed Tommen after the mourning period is over, they will be tame. They need a way to the throne, and as the king didn’t provide Margaery with a male heir, that we know of before he was murdered, they need Tommen,” Sansa informed them. Tywin looked at her curiously before snapping his head toward Cersei. 

“The Keep is locked down until I say so. Go see if Pycelle is finished with the examination of Margaery and then tell him to write to Kevan about what has happened, otherwise there are to be no ravens or people leaving the keep without my knowledge,” Tywin commanded. Cersei looked at him furiously, and it was only now that he realised that her eyes were puffy and red, her normally pale skin blotchy. 

“I am not a servant to be-”

“You are my daughter and you will do as I say. Now go!” He roared like the lion he was. Cersei glared at him, and then at Jaime and Sansa before exiting the room with a thundering shake. Tywin gestured for them to sit, as he did so himself. 

“Lady Sansa, tell me, how do you know so much about this situation and what I should do?” He asked. Jaime could hear the suspicion in his father's tone, he was about to argue before Sansa replied. 

“My Lord, it is no secret that I’ve been here a long time, and when my beloved Joffrey-“

“Speak plainly Sansa, I am not one for false words.”

“As you say, my lord. I’ve spent much of my time in the library of the castle, reading of the histories. As well as being present in court since my arrival here and at my own lord fathers courts in Winterfell. To put it simply, I’ve learnt a lot by watching and reading. The Tyrells are ambitious, it’s true, but the only members of their house with any intelligence is Lady Olenna and Margaery, and from what I’ve been told, Willas, the crippled heir.”

“How do I know you weren’t in leagues with them to kill the king? The sour leaf mixture ended up in Joffrey's wine from your necklace, for payback perhaps, for your own family.” Jaime grunted at his father's accusation. 

“Father! That makes no sense-“

“Let the girl answer, Jaime.”

“You have been kind to me, as has Jaime and now I have a child within me. Why would I risk the life of my unborn child and myself? I am the last Stark, my lord, but as per your decision, I am a Lannister now too. The future lady of your house who carries your heir, and though I had an idea of what to do about succession, that does not make me intelligent enough to murder our king, and I wouldn’t want too. I am evidently, the first person you would suspect. I am loyal to my family, and this is my family now,” Sansa replied boldly. Jaime stared at her. She had never been this bold, this honest, around Tywin. Was it honesty? Tywin evidently was thinking the same, due to the expression adorning his face.  _ This is my family now.  _ He knew that she was saying it in order to keep her head, but still. The words make Jaime's heart clench. His wife was not at all the little girl she pretended to be sometimes. He looked at her, and his eyes fell to her hands resting on the arm of the chair, a finger tapping nervously. He felt the urge to wrap her tight. His father's intense gaze was never a good thing.

“Why are you questioning my wife’s intentions when you have the murderer in custody?” Jaime raged, standing from his seat. Sansa quickly placed a reassuring hand on his arm. It appeared that after their night of sharing, she had come to like him all the more, which was a relief after the silence he had previously faced with her. He sat down, and she kept her hand on his arm.

“Because I don’t believe he did it, your sister accused him in front of the whole crowd that had formed in front of the rooms. Trant went to her first with the news instead of me, by the time one of those buffoons had the sense to wake me, Oberyn was already in custody. There was little I could do with all the bloody people she accused him in front of. She had already sent guards to the Street of Silk to retrieve him,” Tywin explained, the fire in his eyes burned bright as wildfire. Jaime shuddered, but it was not the time for those memories. 

“Where is his paramour, Ellaria Sand?” Sansa asked quietly. Tywin looked at her, and Jaime wished he knew what was going through his mind. 

“A guard has been sent to watch her. She is quite beside herself. Why?”

“Well, I’ve spoken to the Martell prince and his paramour a handful of times since they’ve been in the capital. I can appeal to her, as the disgraced daughter of a dead house, not the future lady of a great one. She would not tell me if he did it, but she will tell me that he didn’t, I can see if she’s lying or not,” Sansa suggested, there was silence, and through that Jaime looked at his father, baffled. 

“You’re not seriously considering this?” Jaime growled. Sansa was a girl, a child. This was a supposed murderers paramour. The women in Dorne were encouraged to fight. If only Elia had had that skill…

“Lord Tywin said he doesn’t believe it was Oberyn, there were five kings, the king had enemies. Prince Oberyn simply wanted revenge for his sister I’m guessing. If that is the case, why would he have not killed Myrcella? She’s alone in Dorne, and surely an easier target than the King,” Sansa said quietly, directing it to Jaime. There was a plea in her eyes, and Jaime suddenly realised what she was trying to do. Trying to prove her worth to Tywin. He only needed an heir from her for both the North and Casterly Rock. If she proved that she could be intelligent, diplomatic, cunning even; Tywin wouldn’t kill her, not with Jaime’s lack of knowledge on how to rule. Tywin had been staring at her the whole time. Whilst it was making Jaime nervous, he could hear Sansa’s silent plea.  _ Let me do this _ . Jaime sighed dejectedly. 

“Father?” Jaime asked in a form of consent. Tywin looked up to him. A nod. He pulled out a piece of parchment and began scratching words into it, handing it to Sansa after he was finished.

“You will tell me everything that goes on in that room, once you’ve finished you return straight here. In the meantime, Jaime, go interrogate the Kingsguard. I want whoever was on duty brought to me, and the rest to be watching the Tyrells and the other Dornish lords that were here, and tell Ser Loras to stay guard on Oberyn along with some of the Lannister guards, he’s too close to the Tyrells to be trusted with much else.”

Sansa nodded, standing from her seat, she bowed her head and swiftly left the room. His arms felt cold at the loss of contact. Jaime looked at his father, waiting for the words sure to pour out of his mouth.

“We underestimated her. She’s much like your mother in terms of her wits,” Tywin said finally. Jaime nodded.

“She isn’t a threat though, she cares for the babe in her belly. She wouldn’t harm it,” Jaime replied, instantly defending the girl. They had put her through enough.

“I don’t see her as a threat, she’s a woman of a disgraced house, as she said. I only need her womb for heirs to the North, but it appears you may need her to rule Casterly Rock one day. Make her love you, make her believe you are the fantasy knight of her dreams. Fear works, but love works better in a marriage,” Tywin called as Jaime stood once more to leave the room.  _ Make her love you.  _

“What will you do?” Jaime asked instead. Tywin raised a brow.

“Rule, and keep your bloody sister in line.”

* * *

###  **SANSA**

* * *

Sansa let out the breath she didn’t know that she had been holding as she left the room. She had been afraid the whole time she was in there, trying to find the fine line between honesty and stupidity. She had taken a risk, telling Tywin her thoughts about the succession, and then the words had fallen through her lips like vomit, after that she hadn’t been able to stop. She had a theory. Jaime was a fighter, not a player in the great game, he had said as much himself. He had confessed to her that he did not know how to be a lord, only how to fight. Tywin knew as much, Sansa knew. But Jaime wasn’t the dwarf, the supposed monster that Tywin was afraid of their house falling to, so Sansa had to make sure that her position was secure, and that she was not assassinated the moment she gave birth to a second child. If Jaime needed her to help him rule, and if Tywin knew that, she was secure. She could avenge her family from the inside. She could raise her child, or children to be everything her family was, and everything they weren’t. She had the power to change the course of Tywin's house, and her current task proved that. She was currently on her way to speak to Ellaria Sand. The paramour of the currently incarcerated prince, the mother of his four youngest children… It was an issue, but she had to prove her worth to these people, if only to keep her head. This was a game of survival. Sansa no longer cared for the throne. She approached the chambers that were currently occupied by Ellaria, and previously Oberyn Martell. The guard stopped her before she could get any closer to the door.

“M’lady, this room is barred by order of the Queen Regent and the Hand of the King.”

“Here, you’ll find that the Hand has allowed my entry. I’m to speak to the Lady Ellaria Sand,” Sansa replied coolly, handing the letter to the guard dressed in crimson and gold. He read over the letter, before nodding and opening the door quickly for her. 

“What do you want?” the Dornish woman snapped as soon as Sansa stepped into the room. Sansa took a deep breath. Time to act, time to play a mummer. 

“Lady Ellaria, I am so sorry about Prince Oberyn,” Sansa rushed, trying her best to look sympathetic because she was, but she was also guilty. She knew who gave her the necklace and still, she kept quiet. 

“You are a Lannister, Lady Sansa.”

“I am a Stark, I was forced to become a Lannister and-”

“And yet you consummated the marriage.”

“Due to force. Lady Ellaria I assure you. I am a Stark through and through, and I completely understand your current pain,” Sansa snapped, still managing to keep her facade running. The idea of Jaime forcing himself on her made her shiver, she could not imagine him doing such a thing to her now. The whole experience had not been unpleasant, but in truth, she decided to do so, not him.

“If you are so much of a Stark, why would the Hand or the Queen allow you in here?” Ellaria asked suspiciously, standing elegantly from where she had been lounging on the couch in her new rooms.

“In the Game of Thrones, you either win or you die, I intend on staying alive, and I will do what I must to do so. Lord Tywin suspects nothing from me because I play Lord Jaime’s innocent little wife, who only wants to help,” Sansa replied, she had heard Cersei say that once. The only thing keeping her lies in check was the memory of Cersei’s lies. How ironic it was that Sansa could use Cersei for something instead of the other way around. Ellaria hummed.

“What did they send you here for then?” Ellaria responded. The suspicion still hadn’t left her tone. She was a mother, Sansa remembered. Sansa feigned a sigh and sat, looking to the ground.

“They sent me here to find out what you know about Oberyn’s part in the Kings murder, but I came here for another reason,” Sansa paused to make sure Ellaria was following along before continuing, looking up to meet her eye, “In truth, I must thank you. You see, my lady, I’m to be a mother and… and the king, Gods rest his soul, was cruel to me, because of my families treason. I was afraid…I was afraid that…” 

Sansa drew tears to her eyes, only now realising that these specific words she spoke were true.

“I was afraid that the child growing within me would be subject to the same torture.”

Ellaria’s eyes softened, she moved over to Sansa, placing a delicate hand on her shoulder.

“My lover has given me four beautiful daughters, I cannot imagine what it would be like to fear for their safety in that regard, but my Oberyn cannot claim your thanks,” Ellaria whispered, Sansa looked up, wiping the false tears from her face. 

“He can't?” Sansa asked in the same tone, biting back a sob. Ellaria shook her head ruefully.

“We do not blame children for the mistakes of their parents in Dorne, Oberyn was with me all of last night in a brothel, there are many, many whores who can contest to that, in any case, he could not have killed Joffrey. The King was not the reason for Oberyn’s anger at the Lannisters,” Ellaria replied, pity dripping off of her words. Sansa leant into the woman's motherly embrace.

“My apologies, my lady,” Sansa said suddenly, standing, and pulling herself out of the woman's embrace.

She blinked, “For what?” 

“I cannot be here without a proper reason, if I’m here too long without any information to relay back to my captors, I will be punished,” Sansa confessed in a low tone. Ellaria frowned, beckoning her forward, standing gracefully.

“Tell your lord that I did not speak, if only to say that Oberyn is innocent. And for you, I promise you will always have a place in Dorne if you want it, if you manage to escape once your babe is born, you both will have a place with us. You would get along with Arianne too, I think, and all of Oberyn’s daughters,” Ellaria whispered, placing a soft kiss on her wet cheek. Sansa nodded in thanks. She felt the guilt eating away at her already for the lies that she had told the woman, as she exited the room and began her journey back to the Hand of the King’s solar. But it had to be done, and she had told the truth too. She was trying to exonerate an innocent man, but how to do that without implicating the last friend of her mothers that had reached out to her, her uncle by marriage, she didn’t know. But now, she had to deal with her good-father, the only question being if she should keep up with this mummery, or tell him the truth. 

* * *

###  **TYWIN**

* * *

Tywin frowned, rubbing his temples with both hands. This day had given him a headache larger than he cared for. His grandson was dead, that was the way his day had started. A pain in his backside. A knock sounded through the room. 

“Enter,” he called. The Lady Sansa, he guessed. He had already spoken to his daughter, Cersei had informed him that Pycelle had told her that Margaery and Joffrey had indeed, consummated the marriage before his death. She had raged for near on an hour about the injustice of it all before he had finally been able to send her away, his daughter thought she was the most intelligent of them all. The most cunning. In truth, the only thing she inherited from Tywin was… he could not even think of something. Genna had always said that Tyrion was the only one who was as intelligent as him in terms of politics. He was infuriating, a drunken dwarf, but Tywin knew deep down that his sister was right. The door opened to reveal the Stark girl, interrupting his thoughts. 

“My Lord,” she said as a greeting, stepping into the room cautiously. The conversation he had had with her earlier in the day had been running through his mind the entire day. She was more intelligent than he had given her credit for. Previously, he had known that she was good at following orders, fear does that to a person after all, and Joffrey and Cersei had given the girl plenty of it. But today, he had learnt that she had opinions that aligned with his own. The girl knew what to do to stay on his good side, she understood the power dynamic. That would be useful for his plans. 

“What did you learn?” Tywin asked, only now realising that the girl had puffy eyes. Tears. A sign of weakness. 

“I lied to her about my position here, she was suspicious of me because I am a Lannister. I told her that I was forced to marry Jaime, and I consummated the marriage due to force, which was a lie, of course. And so she asked why I was there, I told her that I was playing the innocent wife who loved the king and wanted to help around you and the others and-”

“Are you?” 

Sansa blinked at him, “Why would I be here telling you all of this if I truly was?”

Tywin rolled his eyes. The girl was infuriatingly questioning.

“Continue,” he instructed. Sansa bowed her head slightly in submission, at least she knew her place. 

“I told her I was sent there to see if she had a place in the murder through deceit, and of Oberyns. I then decided on a different tactic, she was being cold. So I whispered thanks to her, for killing the king. She looked shocked. I knew she was a mother, so I told her I was afraid for my unborn child's life. It will be public knowledge soon enough, so I didn’t see the harm in telling her. I even managed to cry. But Oberyn didn’t kill Joffrey,” Sansa informed him, rather matter-of-factly for his taste. Tywin raised a brow, keeping the rest of his face in a steely expression. So the tears were not weakness, but a trick. Interesting. 

“What makes you say that?” 

Sansa shuffled in her seat, “She told me so, she said they were with the whores all night long. And...”

“And what?” Tywin snapped. He had no time for her word games. No time for the mummery she had just played on Ellaria Sand.

“She told me that I had a place in Dorne if I wished to escape to there once my child is born. She said that they do not blame the children for their parent’s mistakes.”

“And that convinced you of their innocence?” 

In truth, he didn’t care what Ellaria Sand had said, he cared more for what Sansa had said to her. He believed that Oberyn had not done it. The Dornish did not hide their vengeance. They were proud people, not cravens. That was not the way of Oberyn Martell. The girl who had married his son could be useful if she proved herself to be trustworthy of delicate information such as this. If she wasn’t… Well, there was no shame in saying she died in childbed. Jaime could always remarry to have an heir for the Rock.

“What convinced me of her innocence was the specific words she used. Apologies if I speak too plainly, my lord, but Joffrey did not do anything to Dorne. He gave them the Princess Myrcella to wed a prince of Dorne. But Princess Elia was killed during the sack of King's Landing all those years ago. It’s no secret that Prince Oberyn does not like the Lannisters, but more specifically, he could blame you for the murder of Princess Elia. She said they do not harm children for the mistakes of the parents, so why would he kill the grandchild?” Tywin looked at the girl in surprise, not that he let that emotion show. 

“Don’t apologise for speaking plainly, not with me. You are clever, girl, but not clever enough to fool me. Why are you trying so hard to help me with this?” Tywin asked suspiciously. Her answer would most likely be a lie, he knew, but how she answered could change things for her.

“My pregnancy changes things. I cannot hate the House my child will be born into. I can only work to make sure that their House will have the right reputation.”

“And what reputation is that?”

“One that lives up to both of our Houses legacies. I assume my second child will be the heir to the North? I’m sure you plan to overthrow the Boltons, give my second child the name Stark, and with that Winterfell and the title of Warden of the North. You’re an intelligent man, Lord Tywin, perhaps the cleverest man in the Seven Kingdoms. So you should know that the North Remembers. They will not allow a Lannister the seat of Winterfell, not if I am not there to help,” she stood, as she finished her sentence, and only then could he see her heavy breathing, and the perspiration coming off of the skin that was exposed to the air. She curtsied.

“With your leave, my lord,” she breathed, he nodded in consent, and she spun around and left the room. Tywin leaned back in his seat. He recognised something in her. Joanna. She had the same strength as Joanna. He had heard whispers, rumours of his own marriage. That he ruled the realm for Aerys, but Joanna ruled him. At this rate, it would be much the same for his son and his bride. Jaime was a Lannister. Lannisters loved strength. It was then that he thought of his father. Tytos Lannister. The Laughing Lion. The Toothless Lion. The man who had single-handedly destroyed the Lannister legacy. That single-handedly made the Lannister name a bad jest to those who had sought to climb their way up the social ladder. Much like that whore. He had proven to everyone what the Lannister name truly meant. The Rains of Castamere was his legacy, that was what he had created for his children, for his House. 

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts, much like before. “Enter.”

“Father,” his son greeted as he entered, behind him was Osmund Kettleback.

“Lord Hand,” The former sellsword greeted solemnly. Jaime moved to sit in the seat opposite Tywin, watching Kettleback like a hawk. Tywin frowned.

“So, you were the one on duty last night, I take it?” 

“No, m’lord. But, the man who replaced Ser Jaime was,” Osmund replied. Tywin rolled his eyes.

“So what are you doing here in front of me instead of him?” 

“Well, m’lord. Ser Blane deserted his post. We haven’t been able to find him since.”

Tywin’s head snapped up at that. Ser Blane Tiren was appointed by Joffrey, Tywin had not minded the man. He was a decent fighter, certainly no Arthur Dayne or Aemon the Dragonknight, but then again, the Kingsguard’s quality had gone down drastically, he thought, eyeing the Kettleback. In any case, the men were easy to command. 

“The city is on lockdown. I want him brought to me at once or it will be your head decorating the walls.” Kettleback nodded, his eyes widening slightly, as he bowed and left the room. Jaime huffed as he watched the knight leave, standing to slam the door after him before returning to his seat.

“Are you not angry about this, father?” Jaime seethed. He always had been like that. Thinking with his emotions rather than his head. This girl would be good for him, after all, Joffrey had basically trained the girl to not feel at all.

“About the fact that the man left his post? Very.”

Jaime rolled his eyes, “No, father. About the fact that your grandson was murdered.”

“Of course I’m angry. It was a slight against our house, but Joffrey was erratic and cruel. He was a terrible king.”

“Is that all you care about? Our reputation?” 

“I care about our family.”

“Joffrey was our family!” Jaime yelled, slamming his fist on the desk. Tywin looked up at him, quite bored. The boy was making a fool of himself. 

“Joffrey was under the influence of Cersei for far too long. He was a spoiled child, and that made him a stupid king.”

Jaime slumped back into his seat, “He’s dead now. You can use Tommen to rule yourself, I suppose.”

“I can teach him to be a good king, something his brother and father were not,” Tywin snapped in reply. As if his own son would accuse him of such a thing. He was Hand of the King, and Lord of the greatest, most powerful House since the Targaryens. He didn’t need to be King to be powerful, to rule. 

“Right. Well, with your leave, I’m going to begin making preparations for Sansa and I to leave for Casterly Rock as soon as this lockdown is over,” Jaime announced. Tywin raised a brow, but before he could say a word, a knock on the door interrupted their conversation. He called for the person knocking to enter. Loras Tyrell stepped into the room. 

“What is it, Ser Loras?” Tywin asked quickly. Loras bowed, moving to face him solemnly. 

“It’s Oberyn Martell, my lord. He’s requested something of you,” Loras frowned.

“What is it, Ser Loras?” Jaime asked, raising a brow. A trait he inherited from Tywin, he noticed.

“He requests an audience.”

Tywin stood. He supposed he had time. He briefly looked out of the window, noticing for the first time that the sun had set. He nodded.

“I will see him. Jaime, come. Loras, lead the way.”

The three of them made their way down to the Black Cells in silence, and a million and one thoughts ran through Tywin's head. He believed that Oberyn was innocent, or at least of this specific thing. So why the man was requesting an audience puzzled him somewhat.

“My lord, I insist on coming in with you. To protect you,” Loras pressed. Tywin barked a  laugh humorlessly. 

“He’s in a cell. He’s not dangerous, Ser Loras. Leave us,” Tywin commanded. Loras nodded curtly. Taking a stance by the entrance. Tywin looked at Jaime and together they walked into the Black Cells. 

They did not have to walk far before the accented voice of Oberyn Martell called out to them, “Lannister!”  

“Oberyn Martell. What do you want from me?”

“I must say, Lannister. After the perfumed stench of sex at Chataya’s, the Black Cells smell like shit.”

“Yes, I assume that’s your own.”

“What do you want, Oberyn?” Jaime snapped. That temper would not get him very far as Lord of Casterly Rock. He would have to speak to him about it.

“I want to know what I’m doing here. I didn’t kill the boy king.”

“So who did?”

“How would I know? I spent the night making love to the whores and my paramour, Ellaria Sand. Surely you know her, she was dragged here along with me.”

“So how does that explain the spear in Joffrey’s chest or the attempted poisoning? They are both something you are renowned for.”

“I wish I knew, but I do not.”

“Then you will explain at your trial,” Tywin replied. He moved to turn away but before he could leave, he heard Oberyn speak.

“Then I demand a trial by combat. If you will not hear me, let the Gods decide. Perhaps they have more sense.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READER QUESTIONS:
> 
> 1\. Jaime and Sansa's moments are so much fun to write. What do you want to see with them?  
> 2\. What were your thoughts on the Tywin and Sansa interactions?  
> 3\. Who do you think Oberyn will fight, the Mountain isn't in the city...?  
> 4\. Name suggestions for the babe?  
> 5\. Do you prefer shorter one POV chapters or longer multiple POV chapters?  
> 6\. What do you think of diplomatic/sneaky Sansa?
> 
> Any other comments (and kudos) are appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated :)


End file.
